


Why The Moonlight Was Woven

by Catastra_Fey



Series: Of Sword and Song [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Big Gay Love Story, Blood and Injury, Combat, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Heroism, Killing, Kuroo sings, M/M, Magic, Paladin Daichi, Past Character Death, Slow Burn, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Sorcerer Kuroo, Zombies and undead, side character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21775696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catastra_Fey/pseuds/Catastra_Fey
Summary: Tetsurou Kuroo is a sorcerer who longs for freedom from his oppressive mentor, Archmage Nekomata. When the chance is offered to him, it comes on the wings of a dangerous mission, a rare and valuable artifact that may be guarded by a powerful necromancer. To aid him on this journey is Daichi Sawamura, a hired sword with a powerful faith and a tragic past to weigh his every decision. How far does the dark go, and will the light ever reach them?
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi
Series: Of Sword and Song [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589581
Comments: 149
Kudos: 102





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! Here we go, kurodai fantasy au! I hope you will enjoy this. Forgive the exposition in these first few chapters, world building is so tedious. But! I will treat you with the knowledge that Kuroo sings. That's right. He's gonna sing some pretty songs. So hang in here friends. 
> 
> A quick note of warning, Suga is not a living character in this fic. I don't write his death scene as it's in the past, but I do reference it as it is a major part of Daichi's history.
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you have fun along the way in this soft freaking adventure love story!

Kuroo was working particularly diligently on a new scroll when the summons came. He had had great luck in stringing together simple spells, morphing the runes just enough to still activate but to also feed into a secondary rune. It was ground-breaking work, work that would make his name known to all the kingdoms if he could perfect it. His legacy and his magnum opus.

Just as he let some of the precious spellsand fall into the lines of the second rune, a wind blew through his study carrying with it a voice.

“Archmage Nekomata summons Journeyman Kuroo.” The sand blew over his finely crafted lines, burning into the paper and reducing it to ash. Hours of work, destroyed in a heartbeat. He clenched his fists and blew out an angry breath, sending the ashes swirling into the air. That pompous noble considered no one's work more important than his own gains. Little respect reached his underlings and he considered it a privilege that he even allowed them to stay at his magetower and conduct their research. Six long years, Kuroo Tetsurou had wasted away in this place, doing retrievals and message relays for the Archmage, while he sought only to profit off of whatever Kuroo created while under his support. Gods, he just wanted out. Anything to get him out.

He stood and stretched his legs and back, having been bent over the project for several hours. He made his way lazily to the head office, not feeling inclined to rush given half of his day had been wasted by this summons. Outside of the grandiose double doors, trimmed in silver and sparkling green glass, stood his friend and compatriot, eyes buried in a tome. It made him smile. He was fairly certain that if he ever saw Kenma more than three feet from a book, the world would definitely be in the process of ending.

“You took your time,” Kenma murmured, never taking his eyes from the page. Kuroo just shrugged. There were many sharp things he wanted to say, but it would be terribly unwise this close to the Archmage, in case the old troll overheard him and lashed out. There was a reason he was Archmage. No one messed with the man known as the Dragon of the Dells.

Kenma pushed the door open, slipping his book under the crook of his arm and entered. Nekomata sat at his ebony desk, parchment littering the thing and books stacked on either side of him. His office was grand, with impossibly tall windows and bookshelves lined with ancient volumes containing magical history and theory that only the greats could fully grasp. However, organization was not the man's strong suit. Open books and loose leaves of paper littered almost every surface, areas cleared around precious objects who's qualities were beyond guessable. A black cat that was easily 30 lbs sprawled across one side of his desk, not fat but just huge. It watched the two men enter with unblinking yellow eyes.

“Journeyman Kuroo,” Nekomata droned, not looking up from the paper he was scrawling on, “I have a very important assignment for you.” Kuroo suppressed an eyeroll. Every assignment was 'very important,' Another interruption to his work, despite his ability to enjoy them. The Archmage lifted his gaze, his stoic expression heavy. “This will be different from your usual missions. Not only more dangerous but far more important.” Kuroo straightened his back and set his face. Could it be that he was finally being granted a mission with some teeth to it? Something to help him gain reputation in the magical community? He felt a sliver of hope creep up his spine.

“Many miles to the East, one of our agents in a small city called Shiratorizawa has reported a rise in undead attacks. Their people keep disappearing on the outskirts of the city and it has raised a fair amount of alarm. Between scrying and my research in the area, I believe there may be a Remnant in the locale.” Both he and Kenma gasped in surprise. Remnants of the ancient mystics were exceedingly rare and powerful. They were always objects, usually stones or gems which contained raw magical energy that was far beyond any enchantment the people of this age could create or maintain. They were kept only in the most esteemed places of learning and research for magic and only the greatest wizards and sorcerers were allowed access to test and utilize their properties. Kuroo felt his palms start to sweat.

“My contact was a very capable wizard who was trying to locate the item. The last message I received from him stated that he believed it to be in a tomb found a few miles South of Shiratorizawa. He had been giving me reports daily on his progress. That message was five days ago.” The gravity of the situation settled over Kuroo's shoulders and his stomach twisted with nerves.

“He was concerned that there may be a necromancer in the area utilizing the Remnant to reanimate corpses. Any necromancer is a severe threat, but one with access to such power...we must act quickly. Our contact intimated that a sorcerer would be best to dig deeper on this. There will be little time for study and sleep will likely be difficult within the tomb. Someone with an arsenal of a few heavy hitting spells that they can us quickly and are familiar with is ideal. You, Kuroo Tetsurou, are my highest ranking sorcerer.” Kuroo felt his eyes go round as dinner plates and his mouth had gone dry. Nekomata passed him an out of character sympathetic look.

“I know, I have not thrust you into dangerous quests previously. For two reasons. One being your work here, I have great faith in its potential and I wished to allow you as much time as possible to move forward with it. Two, your behavior during previous quests has made me hesitant to give you something of grave importance. However, it seems our backs are against a wall. You are clearly best suited for this job and I need someone who is competent and I can trust.”

“Your mission would be, ideally, retrieve the Remnant and neutralize the necromancer, if they are present. That being said, should you find yourself overwhelmed, it will become a reconnaissance mission. No 'losing' your recall scroll this time.” Kuroo's head was spinning with a mixture of fear, pride, and confusion. He shifted uneasily, the muscles of his back knotting in anxiety.

“Archmage, will I be leading a contingent then?” He'd never been in charge of a group but this seemed such an important task that he couldn't imagine any other scenario. But Nekomata was already shaking his head.

“Given how sensitive this information is, I'm sending you and one guardian. I have, however, paid the exorbitant extra cost to hire a paladin. They will be able to most effectively ward off the undead as well as provide some healing. This will not be the average brute you are used to gallivanting around with. This will be a highly trained and devout warrior of of the Lady of Light. Kenma has made arrangements and you will meet them tomorrow morning to begin your mission. I expect you to behave professionally.” Kuroo just blinked at him, his mind couldn't seem to decide if this rebuke was infuriating enough to stifle the glow he felt that the Archmage apparently had so much hidden respect for him. Nekomata sighed, but a small smile crept across his wrinkled face.

“If you succeed in retrieving the Remnant, I will promote you to Master. I would move you out of Nekoma, to one of our sister towers where you would be the authority there, to pursue your aims at your own pace and no longer be under my thumb. You would be a partner and a peer, no longer my underling. That is the best reward I can offer you for your obedience in this. I hope it is enough. You are dismissed to prepare.”

Freedom. He could almost taste it. It was making him salivate, the chance he was being offered. He nodded curtly and bowed, turning on his heel to march out of the office. Kenma followed fast on his heels. He marched from the office and rounded a corner, stopping to lean hard against the wall and double over as his stomach heaved from nerves, fear, and anticipation. Kenma pulled up next to him and stood silently for a moment, letting him come apart. It wasn't the first time his friend had witnessed him melt down. When he finally stood, an iron coating shifting over all of his frantic emotions, he turned toward his much shorter peer and breathed in a deep breath which he held tight in his chest.

“This is a good thing, Tetsurou.” Kenma's voice was low and easy but Kuroo could sense his edge of anxiety as well. “Though, I doubt you will have as much fun as you usually do on these little excursions.” Kuroo blew out the breath and raised an eyebrow at Kenma with a smirk. He knew his friend was distracting him by pulling him into his bubble of humor, but honestly, he needed it right now.

“My success rate has been 78%. What makes you think a little faith will protect them from my devious charm?” Kuroo lilted, bouncing an eyebrow. Kenma smirked back, shaking his head.

Kuroo did have a reputation, it just had nothing to do with magic. Three years ago, when these missions had started falling on his shoulders in earnest, he made a decision. Locked inside the magetower all the time was about the most sterile and dull environment you could imagine. His work left him no time for play. Students were strictly forbidden from romantic involvement with each other. Nekomata had thrown many a bright young prodigy out on the streets for violating that rule. So his life for the first three years had been maddeningly dry and chaste.

It had been his third mission, a 'fetch quest' as Kenma had labeled it, and it had come with the perk of a hired sword to assist him from point A to point B. He hadn't thought much of it, but when the wet dream wall of rippling muscle and testosterone had stood before him, he felt like it was his birthday. Twenty-five years old and having three years of suppressed desires, it taken exactly eight hours and forty-three minutes before he had his guardian in a delightfully compromising position. The quest had taken an extra two days to complete because of the beautiful giant in his company. And when they had returned, he was back off to the mercenary guild with no lingering emotions or attachments. It was perfect.

Ever since then, Kuroo had relished the easy quests. He always requested a warrior and stipulated male, if possible. It was a chance to get out some of the pent up sexual frustration that living in the magetower engendered, and he took liberal advantage of that. He tried not to use the same warrior more than once, relishing the chase and happy to avoid any possible feelings that could slip in. Of the men he had tried for (because yes, some were far too ugly for him to lower his standard to), a whopping 78% had given into his seduction before the end of their job. Some were just too straight or in committed relationships already, but it had been such a fantastic game that Kuroo was now known to the members of the guild. He wasn't sure if that worked for or against him, to be honest.

They'd never hired a paladin before, though. The devout warriors were usually doing the work of their god, either out in the world or for the church. Paladins of the Lady of Light were stereotyped as self-righteous pricks with prudish tendencies and a distrust of mages of all stripes. It would certainly be a challenge.

“Well, I didn't get you the woman with 'Vow of Celibacy' listed on her credentials, if that makes you feel better.”

“Oh gods, thank you. You are the best friend ever. I'm going to need something to focus on during this little adventure that's not how likely I am to die or how fucking it up will destroy my chance at my magical freedom. Please tell me the one you chose is at least worth attention?” He was whining, which drove Kenma nuts and the short man just shrugged noncommittally.

“You'll have to see. I know he's male and he's a year older than you. Been out of the church for about three years now. All his details suggest he should be an excellent choice for this mission. No family on file and he came highly recommended. I guess he has some experience with undead. Try to focus on his skills and not just his biceps.”

Kuroo drew back, hand to his chest and mouth open in mock offense.

“Kenma. How dare you suggest I fail to put every one of his skills to the test.” Kenma rolled his eyes hard, deflating. It made Kuroo laugh, but his mirth quickly faded as worry settled back over his shoulders. Kenma patted his arm.

“It will be okay. You can do this. Come on, let's get your things ready. We are prepping you for up to two weeks and I'm going to go over some necromantic basics so you aren't caught off guard.”

Kuroo swallowed hard and let Kenma lead him toward the supply area. Two weeks. A Remnant. A necromancer. A paladin. He wasn't going to sleep a wink tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The absolutely breathtaking fanart of sorcerer was done by my friend Fazi! Go check out his [twitter](https://twitter.com/Fazi83383454) for more of his spectacular art!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is Kuroo's song for you! I take no credit for the song or lyrics, they are the property of the band Hunter Hunted entirely. The lyrics have been tweaked a little to fit the setting. Enjoy!
> 
> [Lucky Day – Hunter Hunted](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LEmOwL9E2fY)

Daichi finished the last of the map that would lead them to the tomb outside of Shiratorizawa. He gave it a long look, paying close attention to the markers he had placed farther out and closer to their goal. He hadn't traveled this far in a long time for the guild, and never to this area, so he needed to be sure. The guild map was thorough, and he added a few extra details just to be sure before casting the drying sand over the ink. It would have to do. 

“Daichi, the horses are ready. They're just waiting on the mage to get here.” Michimiya swayed into the room, her heavy mace and shield already strapped to her back. Her entourage would be leaving this morning as well, a preferable job, if he was being honest. She would be leading an escort of a nobleman's daughter to the kingdom of Fukurodani for the girl's arranged marriage. The nobleman had demanded that all of the mercenaries be female, and Michimiya was highest ranking and most powerful of the guild's women in Nekoma. Her leadership and strength would see the girl safely to the far off kingdom. Of that, Diachi had no doubt. 

“You'll likely be back before I am. Don't let all those women drive you crazy.” He winked at her she rolled her eyes. 

“Please. This will be a piece of cake. Main roads all the way there and a whole contingent of skilled mercs to assist. It's you who should be worried. They won't even tell you what it is you're doing, which is always a bad sign. And then, there's that wizard...” her nose crinkled in disgust.

“I heard he was a sorcerer. A high ranking one, at that.” His eyes were still scanning over the map, memorizing the route as best he could.

“Whatever! You realize that he's the Beguiler, right? The one they always talk about? The guy who has single-handedly seduced more than half of the men working for the guild? That's the guy you're going to be stuck with for two weeks. Alone.”

“Ten days.”

“What?”

“It should only take us ten days. Eight and half of solid travel and then accounting for a day and a half to do whatever it is we'll be doing in this tomb. The mage will be equipped with a recall scroll to get us back in a blink, so it shouldn't be the full two weeks.”

“Were you even listening?” He looked up at her finally, and her hip was cocked to the side, her eyebrows drawn together. Daichi just sighed.

“Michimiya, I'm not interested in the rumors about this guy. This place is worse than a high school. He probably had a brief affair with one of the warriors once and it became a full blown wildfire that he seduced every man in a twenty mile radius. I have no concern, even if he did. All I have to worry about is keeping him alive.” His face had moved steadily into a frown as he spoke. Michimiya was just shaking her head, an incredulous look on her face.

“Well, good luck, Daichi-san. May the Lady shine ever at your back.” 

“May her light clear your path, Michimiya-san.” They shook hands, warm smiles passing between them. When she had joined the guild two years ago, the only other paladin to do so, they had quickly become friends and confidants. Their shared teachings and faith had forged a powerful bond of trust that was likely Daichi's greatest attachment at this point. They had never asked each other why they had left the church. They both understood that such a wound should not be prodded. He could not have been more grateful for that. A knock sounded at the door and one of the attendants leaned in.

“Daichi-san, your patron is here. Shall I send him in?” Michimiya's grip on his hand tightened before he pulled away from her. 

“Yes, I'm ready.” His friend turned away from him with a final raised eyebrow of warning before she slipped out the door. Within seconds, it swung open again and bright golden eyes met his. 

The man was taller than he was by several inches, but leaner, like most of the mages. Still, his frame filled out the dark blue robes well, a dark braided lariat necklace hanging low enough on his chest to disappear behind where the fabric met. His hair was black and fell over one eye in a messy display that could have been accidental. He was beautiful, but such things barely registered to Daichi anymore. He extended a hand.

“Daichi Sawamura, pleasure to meet you Kuroo-san.” Kuroo reached for him, his eyes flashing over him once, before giving him a light handshake.

“The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.” His voice was low and silky, and his smile pulled only to one side as his eyes narrowed just a bit. The Beguiler. Michimiya's rumors might be true after all. What a bother. He'd freeze him out early to make things easier on them both. 

“I've laid out the plan for our journey and I'm estimating about ten days, depending on our actual goals. It will take eight and half to reach the tomb, assuming everything goes smoothly. We will be traveling through bandit country and there are monsters which have been known to attack travelers in the pass, but we should be well equipped to hand them. Your requisition mentioned that we'd be dealing with undead, but was otherwise disturbingly vague. Would you care to fill me in?” Daichi kept his tone flat and allowed some of his annoyance to creep in toward the end. Vague quests were never welcome ones. And when magic was involved, their potential for problems was ten-fold.

“I'm sorry, but I can't fill you in until we're on the road. Archmage's orders.” Kuroo's head fell to the side like he was trying to be cute. Daichi huffed out a breath of frustration. 

“Fine then. The horses are ready. Let's set out. Do you have everything you need?” Kuroo patted the satchel he had slung over one shoulder, long fingers brushing over the buckles. Daichi nodded and rolled up the map, slipping it in a scrollcase and shouldering past the mage. They made their way to the stables in silence and mounted their horses. He was a bit surprised to see how easily Kuroo handled his mount. Most mages were unfamiliar with long travel, and lacked strong survival skills, considering they stayed locked in the tower most of the time. He watched Kuroo check the saddlebags and then pass him a gesture to lead the way. Daichi clicked his tongue and spurred his horse onward. The sooner they got going, the sooner this quest could be over. 

The first hour passed in quiet, the main road out of Nekoma bustling with merchants and travelers. Many of them stared at his companion, with mages being a rare sight on the road. There were main roads that led to Shiratorizawa, but it would add days to their travel and they would arrive far North of their true destination, the unnamed tomb. So Daichi turned them from the crowded street onto a much narrower path which he had traveled before to reach the mountains. It was empty and the silence hung heavy around them. 

“Rather rare for a paladin of the Lady of Light to be working in a mercenary guild.” Kuroo pulled his horse up along side Daichi's and side-eyed him for a reaction. Daichi kept his face neutral. Starting in already with this. What a terribly long journey this was shaping up to be. 

“It is.” 

“Why is that, I wonder?” Kuroo had leaned forward a bit, his bottom lip sucked in between his teeth. 

“Why is it that a high ranking mage would be willing to pay the extravagant price for my services?” Daichi countered, dodging the question. Kuroo glanced behind them and then back to him, his face growing serious.

“Okay, no need for you to continue to stay in the dark about this. We received word that there may be an active necromancer at this tomb who has been hunting the townspeople. Part of the assignment is to confirm those rumors and take them out if it's true.” Daichi cocked an eyebrow. This was a fairly basic hunt then. He'd hunted necromancers before. It didn't explain the need for secrecy.

“And the other part?” Kuroo gave him a long look and then leaned in. Daichi followed suit automatically, giving no thought to the movement. He didn't consider their closeness until he saw the sorcerer's eyes rove from his mouth down to his collar bones, which were now barely visible from his taller vantage point. He frowned at him in annoyance.

“There may be a Remnant, ripe for retrieval.” That made Daichi's heart leap. Remnants were powerful magical items, and though he knew little about them, it explained why this quest had been so hush hush. He nodded, steering his horse somewhat away from his companion. That meant this also had the potential to be extremely dangerous. 

“Well, I wish I'd have known that before we set out, but I understand why you had to keep it secret. Have you worked with a paladin before? Do you know what I can do?” 

The sly look that Kuroo passed his way told him that he should have worded this question differently, but he simply bit against the inside of his cheek and looked away from the other man's smirking face.

“Mmm, no you'll be my first. But I can't wait to find out.” His suggestive tone was unmistakable. Daichi sighed heavily.

“Look, I've heard about you. I just want to be clear. Our relationship is purely professional. I have no interest in you or whatever you're implying, so please, just stop. I don't know what assignments you have taken part in before, but this is serious. I don't want to waste my energy guarding my words so you won't twist them. Are we clear?” He gave Kuroo a firm look and the sorcerer had slumped in his saddle, the hint of a pout forming at his mouth.

“I do hope you're not going to be this much of a stick in the mud for the whole trip.” 

“I said, are we clear?”

“Fine. Your loss, moonshine.” Daichi's breath caught in his throat as that word slipped from Kuroo's mouth. It had been so long since anyone had called him that. It wasn't actually unusual. Paladins of the Lady were part of the Order of Moonshine, while her clerics were of the Order of Sunflare. Referring to them as 'moonshine' and 'sunflare' had become commonplace for the general public. Still, the last voice to call him that rang heavy in his chest and made him grimace.

“Don't call me that. I am no longer of the order.” Kuroo raised his hands in mock defense at Daichi's sharp tone, letting out a long sigh. 

“Well, aren't you a bucket of sweetdough. So what can you do, paladin? Aside from hopefully swing that sword at your hip?” 

“I'll be able to keep the undead away from us, as long as I can concentrate. I can channel holy power into my weapon. I can give us a blessing in battle to help protect us from harm and keep our aim true. And I have some minor healing abilities. What about you, sorcerer? You're not as versatile as a wizard, is that right?” Kuroo shot him a scowl, his shoulders moving back with pride. 

“Versatility does not trump mastery. I can wield both lightning and fire to great effect, create a missile weapon defensive barrier, detect magic auras, I can shatter objects and create walls, and create multiple illusions of myself,” the sorecerer's eyebrow jumped just a little, but he seemed to tone down the suggestion in his voice. “There's a reason I was chosen for this” 

“Good. Stay out of my way in battle and keep your fire and lightning off of me and we won't have any trouble.” 

Kuroo scoffed at him as he urged his horse forward. They rode in silence for another stretch of time, until Kuroo's voice cut through Daichi's thoughts once again.

“I'm going to sing. I'm tired of this quiet and you've dampened my mood.”

“What?”

_ “Lately, I've been building things, castles and longships,”_ his voice rang out in the space between them, clear and bold, like its true purpose was song over speech. Daichi slowed his mount to allow Kuroo to catch up, riveted to his easy smile and surprising talent.__

_ “I've been painting pictures of my dreams. Yeah, I'm done waiting.”_ This man was beyond strange. The cool confidence which poured from him as he sang was captivating. Daichi didn't know the song, but it drew him in__

_ “Lately, I cross my fingers tight, superstition in my mind. I must be breaking mirrors under ladders all the time, cause I'm followed by the rain.”_ He settled his golden gaze on Daichi, and he held it, curiosity overtaking his enforcement of distance. __

_ “This is the real life. Thousand dollars in my pocket not enough to change me. I'm feeling so fine. It's gonna be my lucky day!”_ Kuroo threw his hands out and lifted his face to the sun. Daichi felt himself smile. The theatrical display was banishing his stoicism and he didn't know if he should be frustrated by it or not. __

_ “When the stars align and the clouds have gone away. We're big enough to fill the Milky Way. And we're not afraid, it's my lucky day!”_ The sorcerer's smile was genuine and he chuckled at himself.__

“Are you also a bard, then?” Daichi laughed, unable to control the smile that even reached his voice. 

“Hah, no, but my father was a sailor and I spent my childhood singing shanties from every corner of the world. Now I find that it fills the cold silence with something...better. There may not be magic to it, but it does lift my spirits.” The sun shone against his face and for the first time, he didn't seem annoying. This...this was almost refreshing.

Daichi remembered words spoken long ago, buried beneath years of pain and sorrow. Soft silver and clear hazel under the same sun. The memory tingled, raw against his ribs.

“Someone once said to me that all music holds magic in it. That anything that can touch you like that must be crafted by the gods.” He brushed his fingers over his holy symbol, the sun and the moon cast in gold. 

“A romantic, eh? Maybe you're not such a stony lost cause after all.” Kuroo snickered, but the heavy cloud over Daichi had momentarily parted for the sun and he let the comment slide.

“Will you keep singing?” Kuroo's eyebrows shot up in surprise at his question and he stared for a moment before nodding. Turning toward the road ahead of them, he continued his song. 

_ “Gonna fly around the world, let everybody know my time is now. And my friends at home are pointing from the ground. But I'm not coming down, from my lucky day...”_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo's next song! I take no credit for the lyrics or any part of the song, they belong entirely to the band aeseaes. (thanks for sticking with me! the next chapter is more dynamic, I promise)
> 
> [Rilke Song - aeseaes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5YX1IX-K4Dk)

Kuroo opened his eyes lazily the next morning. Daichi sat with his back to him, his hands working deftly over the buckles and straps of his armor as he secured his breastplate. His movements were smooth and sure, the donning of something he had likely done every day for years. He loved watching warriors do this, there was something about it, the firm metal and and leather tightened over corded muscle, that made him ache.

Doubly so because Daichi seemed to be a stubborn one. Yesterday had been a ride of varying hopes and depressions. Seeing him for the first time had nearly knocked the air from Kuroo's lungs. Daichi was shorter by several inches, but his body was sturdy and powerful. He was fairly certain the horses could be riding him, given the sheer girth of his thighs and calves. Kuroo didn't want to face combat, but gods be damned, he wanted to watch Daichi wield that bastard sword. 

He had short, dark hair and clear eyes the color of deep walnut. His gaze was guarded, but steady and genuine. His face was chiseled perfection, his mouth a strong line that was both imposing and inviting. And his hands, gods, the man's hands were big and calloused and Kuroo wanted them all over him. 

His direct and harsh rebuff at the mere beginnings of Kuroo's advances had felt like a punch. Usually he got much further before being shot down by the few who remained stalwart, but Daichi had seen through him immediately, believed the rumors apparently, and made quick work of his advances. He had sulked for ages before coming to the conclusion that he had to spend at least nine more days with the man, so he was certainly not going to sit quietly. 

Music had always cheered Kuroo. His father was best at conveying emotion and comfort through his many songs and Kuroo had carried this trait on throughout his adult life. He often sang to himself to alleviate tension, when he had the time and the privacy. On many journeys he had sung songs to fill the lonely travel time and loved it most when he traveled with someone who could join in. So, to help bridge the heavy silence Daichi had left them in, he had decided on one of his favorites.

It had changed things. The moment he began to sing, he watched the hard, stoic man slowly evolve into a more whole human. He'd looked at Kuroo, really looked at him for the first time, and Kuroo saw dimensions in him that spanned a lifetime of hardships. Then he'd said that fucking line about all music having magic and it felt like Kuroo's heart was going to explode. He'd wanted him to keep singing. So he had.

He'd half-heartedly tried to get Daichi to sing, but he had just shaken his head. Kuroo had pulled so many songs out of his memory over the day and that night by the fire that his throat was sore this morning. But his companion was more at ease now and that was enough. For now. 

“Oh, you're awake. Eat something before we get going.” Daichi stood, pulling his sword belt on over his hips and Kuroo sat up, stretching like a cat. He pulled out some of the calorie rich bread and shoved it in his mouth, chewing through the dry stuff. He gave Daichi a thumbs up and the paladin chuckled, shaking his head. They gathered supplies quickly and were on the horses and back on the path in minutes. Today, Kuroo decided he would learn about him. Find out if there was a crack in that wall Daichi had placed between them so firmly. 

“Where are you from, Daichi-san?” 

“Karasuno.”

“Does your family still live there?” 

“Most likely.”

“How old were you when you joined the church? Did you always want to be a paladin?” Kuroo was watching him closely and saw him chew his lip at this question, his jaw tightening. 

“Twelve. And no.” These curt answers were wearing on the sorcerer.

“Why did you join?” 

“New topic, please.” He was always so direct, it threw Kuroo off-guard. His mind rushed for something. 

“Your tall lady-friend, she is the other paladin right?” Daichi nodded at his question so he continued, a smirk settling on his face. “I heard she took a vow of celibacy. Poor thing.” Daichi passed him a warning glance, but he charged ahead. “I noticed your credentials listed nothing of the sort.” 

Daichi sighed, giving him a long-suffering look. 

“My vows are private and of no concern of yours.” Yikes, cold as winter.

“Aren't paladin holy symbols usually silver? I see that yours is gold, like the clerics.” Kuroo watched something flicker across his face, like a deep pain that clenched at him as he moved the golden symbol under his armor. Shit, he could not win for losing with this guy. 

“Can you just sing again? I like it when you sing.” Kuroo felt his cheeks heat a bit despite himself. 

“My throat is raw from yesterday. You sing something.”

“I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, Kuroo-san.” 

They bantered throughout the day, with Kuroo occasionally working up to singing. It always settled the paladin in a way that affected Kuroo more than he wanted to let on. His songs had never affected anyone so plainly before and there was a rush in seeing his companion's reaction. That night, as they sat around the fire sharing comfortable quiet, Daichi laid out the map. He frowned down at it, dragging a finger over the surface.

“Tomorrow we reach bandit territory. I expect trouble, so prepare yourself. You have been in battle before, yes?” He pierced Kuroo with that dark gaze. His question felt like an insult.

“Of course I have! Do you really think they would send you with some bloodless initiate? I've fought many times and killed more than my share of men and monsters when the need arose. I take no joy from it, but I'm not some helpless maiden you have to defend.” His indignation was thick on his tongue as he glowered at Daichi. 

“Good. We'll need to stay quiet as we travel through it as well. No talking. No singing. I know it's not your preference, but I need to listen for them. Got it?” 

“Yes, mother,” Kuroo grumbled and Daichi rolled the map back up, stuffing it into the case. “Oh, and I carry healing potions, so don't feel like you have to drop everything for me if I get injured. I can take care of myself.” The paladin nodded to him without looking up. The space between them suddenly felt sterile again. Kuroo hated it. How quickly his warrior shut down. He ground his teeth together. A full day of silence sounded unbearable.

“Listen, moonsh-*ahem*, Daichi-san,” he barely caught himself using the title, saw Daichi's shoulders tense just a bit, “if I can't sing at all tomorrow, I'll sing one more tonight. Any requests? What do you want to hear?” 

Daichi turned toward the sky, the firelight flickering across his face as he thought. Kuroo was starting to find his beauty a nuisance. 

“Sing me something sad, Kuroo-san.”

“What? Sad?” He nodded, eyes still on the stars above. “Sad how? Sad like, your lover has left you or sad like your best friend died? There's a large kingdom of 'sad' out there, so you'll have to be more specific.” Daichi looked down at the ground between his feet, his face gone soft from whatever gripped his mind.

“Both. Either. It doesn't matter.” 

“How about something to help instead?” Kuroo's voice had gone soft. There was an unfathomable depth to this man. It was something that lacked in most of his burly side-kicks, and he found himself fitting perfectly into the role of soother. He wasn't used to it, as his friends generally had a nearly antagonistic relationship with him, but the purity in Daichi's responses were forcing a much truer response from Kuroo. It was both uncomfortable and also freeing. No pretense. Just honest humanity.

Daichi just shrugged, poking the fire with a long stick. Kuroo knew what to sing. It was the song his mother had always sung for him when he was suffering. Perhaps it would do now. 

_ “How did we get here and what does it mean? Who said it must be and when can we dream? The world outside is cold and bright, but when you take a breath. You'll inhale the sunlight and exhale the rest.” _ The words flew from him in smooth notes and he watched them crash over the paladin. He could almost feel a great sorrow within him bleed toward the surface, his dark eyes far away as he stared into the fire. __

_ “We give up ourselves until love leaves a bruise. Invest in some chainmail to withstand abuse. But what if love is more than just the sum of what it costs? You yearn for the part of yourself you thought you'd lost.”_ He saw Daichi turn his face away, saw his hands fist against his thighs. He understood the feeling, even without the context. __

_ “We're older than we used to be. And closer to the ground beneath. Maybe we've got all the time to grow. Maybe we've got all the time and maybe we don't know.”_ His voice had lifted high and falsetto, a beautiful trill in the quiet of the woods. When he looked back over, Daichi was looking at him, his eyes misty and his hand over his mouth. __

_ “In spite of our failures, the lines twist and curve. To regrow the branches the night has disturbed. But when we wake, we'll take the shape of something free and bold. And rest in the shade where the new greets the old.”_ Kuroo leaned back, ready to complete the song, laying out the last notes like a healing balm. Something told him that it would be different after this. __

_ “We're older than we used to be. And closer to the ground beneath. Maybe we've got all the time to grow. Maybe we've got all the time and maybe we don't.”_ He sang the last note quiet and let it hang until only the crackling of the fire could be heard. He felt his own soul find its place of peace. Daichi sniffed.__

“Kuroo-san,” Daichi almost whispered, his voice sounding ragged, “where did you learn that?”

“My mother used to sing it to me when I was at my worst. It helped.” There was a long beat of silence and Kuroo stared diligently into the fire. 

“You sing it beautifully.”

Kuroo gasped in response to Daichi's honest praise. A blush built over his whole body. He was never going to get used to this guy. 

“Th-thank you.”

“No, thank you. Now get some rest. Tomorrow will likely be eventful.” 

As if he was going to be able to sleep after that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No songs this chapter, but now we're rolling!

They exchanged no words that morning. Daichi woke still wrapped in the reverence of what Kuroo had sang for him the night before. How could he have done it? How did he know, with no knowledge of the source, what would soothe the pain grinding against him? He hadn't joked, hadn't made light of things, had simply sought to heal. 

_ Not everyone heals in the same way, Dai. You have to listen and learn them. Flesh is easy to mend. But the heart..._

The words wrapped around him from the memory. He could almost hear Suga's voice in the still air of the morning. He looked over at the sorcerer, digging through his satchel, his wild hair stuck out in all directions. He wondered what Suga would think of him. How would he have handled the provocative mage?

He could imagine it vividly, the two of them talking, Kuroo flirting and Suga giving just enough back to keep the man on his toes. His sparkling innocent appearance and demeanor always left people blind-sighted to his devious humor. He could fluster with the best of them. He would have left Kuroo blushing and breathless, no doubt. He'd always had that affect on Daichi too. 

All of Kuroo's questions about his past had brought the memories of him to the surface. It was a wound but it was also a reminder of beauty and joy, of the most wonderful times in his life. Daichi spent every day trying not to think about him, trying not to miss him. Gods, how he missed him. 

Kuroo stood, tossing the satchel over a shoulder and peering at him from under those untamed bangs. He looked almost sheepish. 

“Ready?” Daichi asked. Kuroo just nodded and walked to the horses, mounting up easily. Daichi did the same, clicking their horses back to the road. In two miles they would reach the border of the known bandit's territory. There was almost no chance that they would make it over the stretch without harassment. 

“If you see me dismount, prepare for battle,” he told the sorcerer. He could fight on horseback, but his swordplay was far more effective if he could use both hands on his sword. Feet on the ground allowed him far better mobility, even if his opponent was mounted. 

“No chance we can talk our way out of it then?” Kuroo asked.

“Not unless you brought a mountain of gold in that satchel to pay them off with. They want everything, including us. Slave trade is alive and well amidst the bandits and a mage will fetch a high price.”

“Ah, I always knew my worth was undervalued by Archmage Nekomata. At least the bandits know a rare jewel when they see it.” Kuroo snickered at his own joke and Daichi hid his smile. The man was growing on him. 

As they rode in silence, Daichi wished that he could ask Kuroo to sing. The rich timbre of his voice was so pleasant and there was almost always a smile in it. It really was a bit surprising that he hadn't become a bard. The Archmage was fortunate. 

Traveling through bandit country was always tense. His ears were trained on the surroundings, even more so than his eyes. It was only a five mile stretch, but the road was narrow and surrounded by trees, the path scattered with loose stones and divots to keep horses from moving quickly over it. The area was carefully tended to be unassuming but just difficult enough to slow travelers down. This group was well established and they worked expertly. 

It was near the end of the territory that Daichi picked up the strange bird call and the answering hoot. He slipped from his saddle and drew his sword, an odd shimmer settling around him that he hoped came from the sorcerer. 

“Don't move a muscle, mage, or we turn you into a pincushion.” An arrow twanged into the ground at the hooves of Kuroo's horse and the animal pulled up short. Kuroo raised his hands up in surrender. Another arrow lodged in the ground in front of Daichi.

“Same goes for you, warrior. Don't be stupid.” A slight man strode silently out from the woods, two curving blades drawn and at the ready. He was too lovely, almost feminine, with curling short black hair and slim eyes that were also nearly black. He regarded them passively, his demeanor completely lax and casual beyond the raised blades. He didn't smile. Three large and brutish men stepped out as well on either side of him, glaring darkly at them. 

Four close range and two archers. He really hoped Kuroo knew how to fight. He ducked his head and charged, hoping the inevitable arrow would bounce off of his armor. Strangely, it thudded to a stop in mid-air and fell useless to the ground. The sorcerer. He'd said he had a barrier. Daichi smiled. 

He slammed into one of the large men, sending him sprawling onto the ground, his mace flying away. The small man whipped his blades up fast, darting around Daichi. An explosion of fire erupted in front of him, the two larger men screaming and falling to their knees, their blackened flesh curling and a terrible smell hitting him. He swung at the small leader who dodged him easily and slashed, cutting into his thigh. It was shallow, thankfully, and he channeled the Lady's power through him, knitting it closed. His enemy's eyes widened. 

“Shoot the mage!” the dual-wielding rogue shouted, but Daichi had no concern. If Kuroo had placed the spell on him, no doubt he had covered himself first. Flame in the shape of a bolt slammed into the bandit and he rolled away as Daichi took another swing. The man he'd knocked down rushed up behind him, and tried to body slam him. He adjusted the angle of his sword and drove it up and in the heaving man's chest without even turning, pulling it free as quickly as possible. 

A crack of lighting sounded to his left and a strangled cry followed it. Somehow, Kuroo had managed to get one of the hidden archers. Impressive. Daichi locked eyes with the angry rogue in front of him, one of his swords now sheathed as one of his shoulders smoldered. Another arrow thunked against the invisible barrier surrounding Daichi and he readied himself for the ferocious man, bringing his sword to bear. 

“Akaashi! Retreat, for the sake of the gods!” shouted a voice from the woods to his right and he saw the man grit his teeth. He kicked sand up at Daichi's face, sending him reeling back just as another flaming bolt hit the bandit, sizzling against his dark clothing. With one last look of venom, he raced into the woods, impossibly fast. They needed to get out of here now, before more bandits could show up. 

He sheathed his sword and remounted fast, not even glancing back at Kuroo as he shouted for him to go. Daichi led the way as they spurred their horses to go as fast as possible along the unsteady terrain, until it evened out again and the treeline thinned. He knew they weren't safe yet but they could catch their breath. He slowed the pace and let Kuroo catch up to him. 

When he looked over, his heart nearly seized. Kuroo was leaned forward, face tight and jaw clenched. An arrow protruded from his back, the opposing feathered end sticking several inches out of his shoulder, just below his collar bone. His face was pale and he looked over with round eyes full of desperation.

“Fuck, Kuroo! Why didn't you say something!” He was already off of his horse, leading both horses off the road to the shelter of the trees. He saw Kuroo sway unsteadily.

“We had to get away,” he rasped. Fool. How did this happen? 

In moments they were deep enough that the road was mostly obscured and Daichi approached the mage, looking him over carefully. Blood stained his blue robe on both sides in large patches. They needed to get it taken care of right now.

“Can you dismount?” Kuroo looked at the ground and fear passed over his face. Daichi reached up, grabbing a hold of his waist and maneuvering him down. As his feet hit the ground, he gasped and sank to his knees and Daichi followed him down. 

“Gods dammit, Kuroo, how did this happen? Nothing made it through the barrier you placed on me.” He slipped a knife from his boot and tore the fabric of the blue robe so it fell away from Kuroo's shoulder. The thing had sunk deep, but the fact that so much of it was on the other side would make removal easier. Kuroo scowled at him.

“I put your barrier up first. They got one through before I could get mine.” Daichi met his eyes. He was breathing hard and his face had drained of color. He felt anger flare bright in him and Kuroo saw it and smirked. “Look, if you go down we're fucking done. Keeping you alive keeps me alive.” 

“Have you ever taken an arrow before?” Daichi asked evenly. He fished a small vial from his belt pouch and unstoppered it, dropping some of the oil onto his fingertips. He pulled Kuroo's opposite shoulder forward so his head leaned against Daichi's shoulder. He rubbed the oil on the wood of the arrow close to where it punctured the skin, the area he would be pulling back through the wound.

“Ah! No, just get it out. Please.” He whined against Daichi and the paladin felt for him. It was a terrible process and one he didn't want to have to put him through. Still, there was no other option. Once he was finished smoothing out the arrow shaft, he reached down between them and unclasped his belt. Kuroo huffed against his neck.

“I'm flattered, but I'm not particularly in the mood...” Kuroo gritted. Still joking around. That was a good sign. But Daichi could feel his body starting to tremble. 

Guilt wracked through him. He should have used the spell on himself first. He'd chosen to protect Daichi and because of that, he could have died. As it is, this was going to be very rough on him. Daichi could handle it. He'd taken more arrows than he could count, pulled them out himself before patching them up, mid-fight. But the sorcerer seemed more delicate and he hated seeing him in pain. It was Daichi's job to protect him. He had failed.

“Okay, I need you to bite down on this. Hard.” As Daichi pushed the leather belt toward his mouth, Kuroo looked up at him, eyes filled with fear. His expression almost begged him not to continue, but Kuroo still bit down around the leather and leaned his head back against Daichi's shoulder. Almost instinctively, Daichi placed a hand at the back of his neck. He didn't want to do this, but it had to be done. 

“I need you to know what's going to happen. There will be pain, twice. The first time, I will break off the end of the arrow coming out of your back. It's going to feel like you've been shot all over again.” He felt Kuroo shake more and the sorcerer's hand on his good side shot up to grip at the sleeve of Daichi's shirt. Shit, he hated this, hated seeing this man so vulnerable. It tugged at his heart. “The second will be when I pull the arrow out, from the front. I need you to focus on biting down on that belt. If you pass out, that's fine. I'll go as fast as possible with both of these steps and I need you to try to stay still. As soon as it's out, I can heal you. I'll flood you with light and it will take the pain away, okay?” Kuroo nodded against him. He whimpered just a little and Daichi felt one of his tears drop heavy on his thigh. 

He brushed his hand up through Kuroo's hair, pulling him close for a moment. It would distract him, set him just a little at ease before Daichi had to hurt him. Then his hands went to the arrow at his back. 

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. He braced the arrow with one hand and snapped it, hard with other. It broke easily and Kuroo jerked in his grip with a cry. Without hesitation he gripped the feathered end and yanked it clean from the wound. He felt the ragged scream that tore from the mage, muffled by his bite around the leather belt. Already his hands were falling over the wounds, pouring the healing magic into them. He could feel the skin knit closed beneath his fingers, the muscle move back into place and stitch back together. His hands glowed on Kuroo's pale skin, the dark streaks of blood all the more stark against the Lady's gift. 

When it was done, there was nothing more than two pink marks where the arrow had protruded. Kuroo was sobbing against his shoulder. Daichi was a little impressed that he hadn't passed out. At the same time, if he had, it all probably would've been easier on him. 

“Okay, all done. You did good. You did so good, Kuroo-san.” The belt dropped from his mouth and his recently healed arm came up, fingers hooking in Daichi's collar. Daichi wiped the blood on the back of Kuroo's robe and just held onto him for a moment. This too honest reaction was tearing at him. For once, he wished for the obnoxious flirt he had already seemed to have grown accustomed to. Finally, Kuroo pushed back, wiping his red face and eyes with his remaining sleeve. He didn't look at Daichi.

“Fuck. Sorry. You must think I'm so weak.” He placed a hand over his face, the muscles of his jaw set tight. Daichi watched the ragged fall of his breaths, his lean but still well-defined frame shaking ever so slightly. His eyes lingered on his half bare chest, the lariat falling over his collar bone and down the center of his chest. Daichi jerked his gaze away. No. What was he doing? And now of all times?

“I don't think that. I've seen warriors twice your size pass out just from the break. I'm impressed.” 

Kuroo's eyes shot up to meet his, full of surprise and a spark of kinship. And he was...

Oh no. Sitting there, his large golden eyes swollen from tears, his shoulders heavy with humility as he looked at Daichi with such devastating gratitude, he was so, terribly, beautiful. 

“I...th-thank you. For helping me and for being so kind. I should...get my other robe.” He went to stand, shakily and Daichi helped to steady him. 

“We'll ride a few more miles to put extra distance between us and those bandits, but we won't ride all day. You need to rest.” Kuroo unhooked his belt while Daichi talked and let the tattered remains of his blue robe fall to the ground. The tight black pants he wore beneath it hugged every bit of him and it made Daichi swallow hard and look away. He picked up his own belt to hook it back around his waist, but his thumb brushed along the deep teeth marks in the material. 

Kuroo was pulling on a new robe, lighter and...red. Gods, it suited him, the ruffle of his black hair against the crimson fabric. He tossed a glance over his shoulder, those honey-colored eyes catching Daichi's like a net. 

“Now I really am stuck singing for you, huh? Nothing else I do seems to make you happy, other than gritting through pain.” He smiled and the edges of his eyes crinkled. 

“I'd rather you sing than get hurt. The world is more beautiful when you sing, Kuroo-san.” Daichi looked away and bit down on the inside of his lip. That had come out much more romantic than he intended. Kuroo spun, his mouth curled up on one side and one eyebrow cocked up.

“Sawamura! Are you flirting with me?” He tried to be annoyed, but he mainly felt relieved that Kuroo seemed his usual self again. Still, he shook his head. 

“You know, it's a pity you assign motive to simple honesty.” He saw Kuroo suck in a breath, taken by surprise by his rebuttal, but Daichi simply turned back to the horses and climbed back up on his mount, a small smile straining at his lips. Kuroo followed and they walked back out to the path, picking up a canter as they hit the road. The air had shifted between them, he could feel it. He wasn't sure yet if it was good or bad. But it felt good. He would have to be careful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day three, my bros, and they are already soft on each other. I won't apologize!
> 
> In other news, bandit leader Akaashi makes me think that if this is well received, there might have to be more of these. I'll have to noodle on it. Might ask for your input once we finish out this ride. ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this definitely was only supposed to be like, 500 words but it wound up being a whole chapter. So, no POV change for the next chapter. Oh well. Enjoy these moody dudes mooding. 
> 
> Here's Kuroo's song for this chapter. I take no credit for the lyrics or song, it belongs entirely to the band American Authors. Lyrics slightly changed to fit the world. 
> 
> [I'm Born To Run – American Authors](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kb901KsDtjo)

A warm hand against him, shaking his shoulder gently, brought Kuroo back from the deep sleep he had been lost in for what felt like years. He blinked as Daichi's countenance came into view, deep walnut eyes locked on Kuroo's face. The sorcerer shut his mouth quickly, swiping at the line of drool that had made its way down his chin. As he sat up, the muscles in his shoulder and neck screamed in protest. 

“I'm sorry to wake you, Kuroo-san, but we have to get moving. How are you feeling?” 

“Ugh, like I was hit by a rampaging dragon, but nothing out of the ordinary.” Healing magic was incredible, but there were things it couldn't account for. While it healed the actual injury, the stress to the body was still present and it always left a deep muscle ache and pounding headache that took hydration and time to get past. Kuroo rubbed at the muscles in his shoulder, getting the blood flowing through them. Daichi nodded and stood back up, turning toward the horses.

Kuroo's eyes caught at the thick leather belt that held Daichi's scabbard. Indents marked in a crescent shape were still clearly visible from where his teeth had marred it. A shiver ran through him.

Kuroo had seen many battles. He had been injured worse than the arrow shot, but it had always been fleeting. One swig of a potion had closed any wound and spread the warm numbing feeling to wherever the damage rested. The arrow had been an entirely different animal. When it hit him, he had barely registered it. It felt like a hard punch to his shoulder, adrenaline surging through his system. He'd thankfully gotten his barrier up before any more could pierce him, but he'd continued to cast spells, the sharp pain slowly taking brutal root in his mind. Like always, he'd clamped down any reaction, reminding himself there would be time once they were clear of the fight. When the bandit leader had disappeared into the underbrush, a bitter wave of nausea had hit him at the same time as the punishing burn of the arrow. 

He had wanted to stop, but they had to get out of the area. His mind had already let the cascade of agony through when the horse had taken off. The jarring of his body as the horse's hooves met the ground sent shockwaves of pain through him that had him seeing stars. He'd gripped the saddle so tight it hurt, just trying to hold onto consciousness. It seemed like they had ridden for hours when Daichi finally stopped an noticed him. 

He'd known the arrow had to come out, but the reality of that process was something his mind had blocked off. Now, he could barely remember it, but he knew that it had been some of the worst pain of his life. And this paladin, who had given him such a cold shoulder through most of this journey, had taken care of him with such kindness and affection that it was unreal. He could still hardly believe his memory, the warm, calloused hand at the back of his neck, the whispered words of care and praise... Who was this man? Kuroo had been ashamedly at his most vulnerable and he honestly couldn't imagine anyone having handled him so tenderly.

_ The world is more beautiful when you sing, Kuroo-san._

A blush crept over his face. No one had ever said something like that to him. Something that shook the earth beneath his feet. He'd hated himself for covering his heart-pounding shock with humor, but even that Daichi had deflected with ease. Fuck this guy. While part of Kuroo was screaming that the game was still on and he could win it, the more logical part was telling him to stop. To dig in any deeper with this story-book prince would lead only to suffering. No, he was finished trying for it. 

They'd ridden for mere minutes that morning before Kuroo started humming and he noticed tension release from Daichi's shoulders. He'd let the song roll out of him and the ease at which it put the warrior was making his chest feel light in all the best ways. 

As the day wore on, Daichi seemed easier with him, their conversation moving with fewer defenses in place. 

“The bandit was awestruck by him. Red-faced and breathless, probably as turned on as he was afraid. The guy was huge, yes, in every way, and dripping wet from the river, having just completely trounced this guy with nothing but a short sword. It looked like a freaking toothpick in his fist. The bandit looks up at him and just says, in this thin falsetto 'your swordplay is...most excellent.'” Kuroo was delighted at how Daichi was curled over his saddle, his cheeks red as his shoulders bounced in quiet laughter at the sorcerer's story. Kuroo had realized that making the man laugh was almost as good as watching his face break into absolute peace every time he sang.

“So I stick my head out from behind and him and just say, 'you should see what he can do with his mouth!'” The dam broke and rolling laughter burst forth from Daichi, low and joyous, and it resonated in Kuroo's chest as he laughed along with him. As they recovered, Daichi turned to him, a tentative gleam in his eyes.

“Kuroo-san, may I ask, are the rumors about you true, then? Do you truly make a point of seducing all of your mercenaries?” Kuroo's eyebrow shot up in response, his retort already on his tongue before he could even think to stop it.

“Why do you want to know?” The suggestion in his voice was heavy and he leaned forward slightly, to peer at Daichi from under his bangs. He'd gotten this question a lot and he'd slipped into his usual flirtations automatically. Daichi just shook his head.

“I really don't know how you do it,” the paladin said, his eyes turned forward and away from Kuroo. Kuroo grinned.

“Maybe I sing for them and then get shot through with arrows.” His smirk only widened at Daichi gave him a soft glower. A little voice inside Kuroo's head was screaming that he needed to stop it, right now, but he was having too much fun.

“That's not what I mean. Nevermind.” 

“What do you mean? Come on!” Kuroo egged him on, completely unable to keep the tease out of his voice. Daichi huffed out a sigh before responding.

“How do you just start something that you know will end so soon. Don't you, you know, feel for any of them? Want more than just a few days on the road?”

“No, definitely not. It's purely for physical relief. Simpler that way. For both of us.”

“But Kuroo, how do you share a part of yourself with someone like that and then just...walk away from it?” 

Kuroo scoffed and chuckled. This guy was so cute. He pressed a hand to his forehead, pulling his fingers back through his hair. 

“Oh, Dai-chan, it's not like we're making sweet love under the starlit sky in a fragrant field. This is just quick and dirty boot-knocking. I mean, come on, haven't you ever stumbled out of tavern with a handsome stranger and wound up heels to toes against a stable wall? It's fantastic.” Daichi's expression had continued to darken as Kuroo went on.

“I'm happy to say that I haven't. Nor do I intend to.” Daichi's tone was clipped and Kuroo lamented that he was probably falling back into that judgmental paladin attitude. It grated against the sorcerer and a 'tch' escaped his lips. 

“Well, I don't have the time or energy for anything more than that. My work for the Archmage leaves little room for something as frivolous as love.” The weight of the look Daichi leveled at him seemed to take the air from his lungs. It was as if he had cursed the Lady in the grand cathedral and he felt his face heat further in irritation. He gritted his teeth and refused to look at the other man.

“Only someone who has never felt it could possibly describe love as 'frivolous.'” The burning in Kuroo's chest was clouding his mind, his brow tight. What did this man even know of him? Not everyone had the luxury of leading a life of romance. That was fairy-tale shit that teenagers dreamed of.

“I suppose you know it well then?” Kuroo passed back to him, a haughty air to his tone. Sirens were screaming in his mind to stop, but he was never good at regulating his reactions in these situations. Especially coming from a source he was strangely raw around.

“I have. It was the best part of my life. I pity you that you think so little of such a thing.” Daichi's tone was even, too even and Kuroo rounded on him with a ferocious look.

“Yet, here you are now. Alone. What a shame.” His words dripped with animosity and he watched them cut across Daichi. The paladin narrowed his eyes, a look of disgust crossing his face. He spurred his heels against his horse, urging it forward and away from Kuroo. 

Pride burned bright in him for only a moment before regret doused it. He'd purposefully aimed that blow and it had landed with maximum affect. It had been unnecessary. Looking back at their conversations over the last few days, he saw the pieces fitting together. Whatever had happened had left a deep scar in his companion. 

He could almost hear Kenma's voice in his head. _ Fix it, you nitwit. _

He spurred his own horse forward, still staying behind, but within earshot of Daichi. His stomach burned with stubborn pride, but he swallowed it. He needed this man and he needed there to not be a rift between them over these few days. 

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that.” Silence stretched between them. He watched the smooth sway of Daichi's body moving with the horse's stride. The creak and rattle of his armor a grim replacement for words.

“It was my mistake for bringing it up. Your life is your own, sorcerer. Live it as you wish.”

“No, I-” Kuroo started to say, true remorse starting to leak in to his words but Daichi cut him off.

“What do you know of the necromancer?” The question caught him off-guard and his brain scrambled to reorganize in this new direction.

“Uh, n-not much. There may not even be one. The Remnant can cause the dead to rise on its own. However, there seems to be intent behind their movements and gathering spaces. They should be simple, mindless zombies. The notes Nekomata gave me specify that a few people have even claimed to see an incredibly large ghoul who appears more intelligent than the rest, herding the lesser undead and choosing targets which garner the most threat rather than the nearest body. They're just rumors from scared peasants, but if that's the case, it means that someone is using the Remnant's magic to supplement their own. Worst case scenario, we've got a power hungry necromancer who's amassing an army of dead in order to take the city.” 

Daichi slowed his horse to come up next to Kuroo again. His expression was still hard, but he looked over at Kuroo with an edge to his brow.

“Why, by the grace of the gods, are they only sending in two people? If there's an army of undead in this tomb, then we will be nothing more than two more soldiers in their ranks.” 

“It's as much a reconnaissance mission as anything. That's the worst case, and if we find it to be true, we return so they can face the threat reasonably. But, it could just be a retrieval of the Remnant, in which case, a large contingent would have merely drawn unwanted attention. It's important that the Remnant doesn't fall into the wrong hands.”

“Why would you agree to do this?” He looked up at Daichi's question, confusion swirling in his mind.

“I-I just told you. We have to retrieve the Remnant, if we can, so that the people of Shiratorizawa are safe.”

“But why you? You knew how dangerous this would be, and yes, you are skilled, but I know you are not the most experienced mage in that tower. So tell me, why would you risk your life for this?” Daichi was pinning him with a dissecting stare and he squirmed uncomfortably.

“He offered me what I've been striving for for six years under his thumb, okay! If I do this, he'll place me as master of one of the sister towers. I can conduct my research and be free from being his errand boy. I'm sure it means nothing to you, but it is my dream. To do my magic without being beholden to someone. To be free.” Kuroo bit his teeth together hard. He'd let a little too much seep into that. His heart was aching. 

“I do understand.”

“What?” Kuroo looked over at him in surprise. Daichi's fingers brushed against the holy symbol which hung heavy at his chest, his eyes far away.

“It's why I left the church. My faith in the Lady never diminished, but I saw that what stifled it the most was the church. I had to get away if I was to be the man I needed to be. So yes, I do understand.” 

Kuroo swallowed hard. The tension was thick in the air and he needed a way to dispel it. As always, his mind sought a song to heal the ragged burn of his nerves. He raised his head and let his shoulders fall back.

_ “I'm born to run, down rocky cliffs. Give me grace, bury my sins. Shattered glass, and black holes, can't hold me back, from where I need to go.”_ He felt some of it melt away, carried with his clear voice over the open fields surrounding the road. He glanced at Daichi and saw his hands clenched tight at the reins, his eyes downcast. __

_ “Yellow hills, and valleys deep. I watch them move, under my feet. Stranger things, have come and gone. To see the world, and take the throne. Don't hold back. Oh I, won't hold back.”_ He looked fully at the paladin and those dusky brown eyes finally raised to meet his. They held the look for a moment, a thread of shared yearning finally tied between them. Kuroo smiled and he saw it pull at Daichi's lips as well. __

_ “I want to live my life like I'm gonna die young. Like it's never enough, like I'm born to run. I'm gonna spend my time like tomorrow won't come. Do whatever I want, like I'm born to run. I want to see Shinzen. I want to see Datekogyo. I want to be careless, even if I break my bones. I'm gonna live my life like I'm gonna die young. Like it's never enough, like I'm born to run.”_ As he let the song fade, the air felt lighter between the two of them. The lines had eased on the paladin's face and his shoulders were more relaxed.__

“Tomorrow we reach the river. It will be good to wash away the rigors of the last few days.” Even Daichi's voice sounded smoother as he peered into the distance. Kuroo scratched at his scruffy chin. It would be a blessing. 

“Will you sing something else?”

“Only for you, Daichi-san.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we do talk a little about Suga's death in this chapter, nothing specific, but I wanted to give you fair warning. Thanks for sticking with me! Enjoy!

Kuroo was not one for long silences, but after his brutal counterattack on Daichi, he had mostly kept his thoughts to himself. They had spoken more about the mission and Daichi had asked him about the tower and his work there, but much of the friendliness they had shared beforehand had chilled. He replayed the conversation in his mind, over and over again, changing his words, finding reasons to justify what he did say, and generally beating himself up for losing control of his reactions at every point. 

The evening had been stilted and uncomfortable. Kuroo found himself wondering often about the person who had so impacted Daichi's life. He wanted to ask about them, to hear his straightforward and yet profoundly moving words unravel the mystery that was this stranger from the past. But he knew better. Daichi barely looked at him and it was maddening after the brief burst of affinity. 

The next day, they heard the rush of the river before they saw it and it made Kuroo feel all the more in need of the clean water. His body felt itchy from dirt and sweat, his hair oily and limp against his scalp. His clothes needed washed and gods, did he just need the feel of the water on his skin more than anything. He could only imagine how Daichi must feel, his heavy plates of armor locking heat beneath them and warming in the sun. The man basically lived in an oven. His face had grown out much further than Kuroo's. He imagined the paladin could likely grow a very nice beard, unlike Kuroo's patchy scruff. He wondered why the man bothered to shave at all. 

As they road up to the edge of the river, Daichi quickly finding them an area of slower moving water, Kuroo felt a twinge of awkwardness. Normally, he loved this part of adventures. Watching warriors strip down was a thrill that he sometimes lived for, and more than once this situation had culminated in him winning the affections he sought. Now, though, his intentions were muddied. He didn't even feel like making a joking pass at the warrior, more less placing him in a compromising position. Yes, it needed to stay professional for the moment, despite the intimate environment. 

Still, as they both dismounted and Daichi began to unhook his armor and peel off the sweat-laden clothing, Kuroo could not keep his eyes from him. His skin was golden bronze, carved with the light etchings of scars from countless battles. His musculature was perfect, like a statue carved of kings who paid handsomely for a lie to be immortalized in stone. He was truly and unfairly breathtaking. 

The muscles of his back led down the tantalizing curve of his spine, and as he pushed his pants from his hips, Kuroo sucked in a breath. The ample curve of his ass, which Kuroo had already admired through the rough fabric of his pants, was enough to make him throb with want. He bit into his lip hard, but could not tear his eyes away from the man's naked back until he was waist-deep in the water. 

“You could have just made him ugly, you know. Vile temptress,” Kuroo whispered to the goddess. He pulled a soap cloth from his satchel, shoving his robe from his shoulders to place aside for washing. He kicked off his boots and took in a deep breath, willing his body into control. He thought of Nekomata and of his runes and soon his desire was quelled. He shoved the rest of his clothes off and walked into the water. Daichi had never seemed to have even looked back at him. 

He ran the soap saturated cloth over his skin, rubbing himself raw as he tried to erase the thick feeling of grime. He washed it through his hair and let the river take away the stain of the last few days. It was beyond refreshing. 

A flash of something caught his eye and he turned toward Daichi, who had leaned forward slightly to rinse the soap from his neck. The golden holy symbol glittered in the light of the midday sun. Kuroo cocked his head. 

“You're still wearing that thing? Don't you ever take it off?” He crouched down in the water, letting it rise to his neck. Daichi looked over at him, his mouth a thin line as he weighed his answer.

“No.” The simplest answer, given curtly, as always. Kuroo narrowed his eyes, huffing out a frustrated breath.

“What, never? Never, never? Not even when you're, you know...” Kuroo bit at his thumbnail. Ugh, he was doing it again. Steering the conversation in directions he had promised himself he would avoid. It was just so difficult to remember as his eyes followed the droplets of water that cascaded down Daichi's torso, sparkling in the sun on his perfectly tanned skin. Daichi sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. 

“Hasn't come up since I put it on, so no.”

“What! But you, you said you joined the order when you were twelve! I...” Oh gods, oh gods, Kuroo was starting to panic. Was he a virgin? Could he be a virgin if he had experienced that level of true love that had been such a sticking point the day before? It was, of course, possible. Kuroo's closest friend, Kenma, was asexual. It certainly didn't mean that he didn't experience strong connection or emotion with people, just that he had no sexual inclination. That would certainly explain why Daichi had rebuffed all his advances and seemed so put off by Kuroo's proclivities. He could have just said, if that was truly the case.

“I've only worn this symbol for three years. Like you said, it's not a paladin holy symbol. It's a cleric's.” Daichi's fingers wrapped around the golden metal, the slightly overlapping circles of the sun and moon, stars laced within them. His thumb traced the edges as his eyes grew distance. “It belonged to my partner.”

“They gave it to you?” Kuroo asked, suddenly rapt with interest. For once, Daichi didn't seem as hesitant about sharing an aspect of himself. Honestly, it seemed more like he was desperate to let it out, his shoulders hung low and his eyes locked on the water's surface.

“No. He died.” The way he said it threw open the doors of mystery surrounding his small references over the last four and half days. His partner, his cleric, and his love. The clarity snapped into place for Kuroo in a rending moment.

Kuroo's heart stuttered and a deep, crushing shame lanced through him. His comment from yesterday now felt like a torturous cruelty. Daichi's lover hadn't left him. He had been taken from him. Everything made sense now. He'd probably known the man since he'd joined the church. Paladins and clerics were usually paired together, a strong support and kinship important for their trials and tests of faith. Most of them stayed as a unit, continuing work for the church with a constant confidant to keep their feet firmly planted on the path of light.

Only people of the same gender were paired together, to dissuade possible romance from budding. The church's rules about coupling made Nekomata's seem lax by comparison. All clerics and paladins were expected to remain celibate until they were granted full license to act on the church's behalf. The strict guidelines by which they must live even after being licensed dictated that they should be discreet and avoid promiscuity, as they represented the church. They could marry, but such unions between a partnered cleric and paladin were unheard of. How long had Daichi had to hide what he shared with his partner? To lose a lover was brutal enough, but to lose the person who had also been your grounding support for over a decade...he couldn't even imagine.

“Fuck. I-I'm so, so sorry.” Guilt raged through his veins, and he was at a loss for what to do. He was glad he could hide beneath the water.

“You had no way of knowing, Kuroo-san.” Daichi turned and made his way back to the shoreline. Kuroo didn't even look at him. “Come on, we have clothes to wash and I assume you are also suffering under the itch of your beard.”

Daichi handed him his blanket as he came to shore, the material doubling for a towel when needed. They both wrapped them around their waists and set to work, kneading soap into their clothes and twisting out the dirt, sweat, and blood which had accumulated in them. They hung them over a tree and sat on a low rock, their feet and lower legs sinking into the cool water as they started the process of shaving their overgrown chins. 

Kuroo had brought a proper razor but Daichi just used his knife. He watched the paladin work skillfully over the sharp planes of his face, leaving nothing but the smooth, bronze skin. Kuroo was not accustomed to shaving blind, and felt some embarrassment wash over him as he struggled with coverage. He was burning to ask more and figured, what was the harm? He wasn't sure he could screw things up any worse. 

“Will you tell me about him?”

Daichi gave him a searching look and Kuroo met his eyes, trying to convey that there truly was no ill intent behind his question. After a moment, Daichi nodded.

“His name was Sugawara Koushi. He was a great cleric and an impeccable fighter. I think you would have liked him, Kuroo-san.”

“How so?”

“He had the face of an angel, soft edges and liquid eyes, but he was sly and terribly devious at just the right moments. People underestimated him because he was so unassuming, but it was always their downfall. He had a quick wit, like you, and he was ferocious on a battle field. Yet, even with all that, he was never afraid to show how much he loved life and those who shared it with him. That was his greatest gift of all. The church taught us many things. How to fight, how to use the Lady's power, authority and obedience, devotion to our faith. But Koushi...” Daichi looked over at him tentatively, hesitation in his eyes. Kuroo just looked at him, eyes wide with wonder. Silently, he begged him to continue. “He taught me what beauty was. And how to to never shy from appreciating it.”

“You do seem to have a firm grasp of that, I'll admit.” 

“He was so wise and honest, Kuroo-san. Unshakable. I watched him take a group of battered soldiers, beaten within an inch of their life, and rally them into a fervor of triumph with nothing more than words. I've never known another like him. I doubt I ever will.” Daichi's eyes were cast out over the clear water, his hands resting lightly against the holy symbol. As he looked back into the past, Kuroo was sure had never seen such a depth of emotion on anyone's face before. It made him feel it, down to his bones, this love that the paladin carried. Suddenly, his own life seemed so vapid by comparison. He felt small. He felt empty. 

“When he died, the church told me that I would be reassigned to a different cleric. They demanded that I give up his holy symbol, to be given to a new initiate, as was customary. I refused them. Instead, I handed in my own. It was the end of my inclusion in the Order of Moonshine. I didn't feel that it was the way of the Lady of Light. I didn't feel that she would trample my need of reverence for the sake of utility and protocol. That is not the Lady I serve.”

“I can't imagine such a thing, Daichi-san. You've honestly humbled me,” Kuroo replied quietly. It was all he could think to say. He watched the paladin's expression shift into a soft smile.

“You know, he always used to ask me, 'Dai-san, why do you think the Lady wove the moonlight? The night was already blessed with her stars and the day with her golden sun. The moon doesn't always shine bright and sometimes falls dark entirely. So why?' I would try to answer him, but he would always shake his head and say, 'No, it just couldn't be that.' It was the one thing he never had an answer for. Perhaps, the day that I learn that answer, I can take off this holy symbol and set him free.” 

Kuroo was just staring at him, eyes wide and hands still on the warm stone beneath him. He had never, not in his entire life, seen someone bare their soul in such a way. He was speechless. This, this was what lay behind those songs about love and longing. The ones about joy and sorrow that had never made sense to him. This man, who he hadn't even known for a full week, was shifting the landscape inside of him and it was pain and it was fire and it was exaltation. 

Daichi turned to him and Kuroo snapped his gaze away, feeling his face heat. He heard him chuckle and it made him feel all the more embarrassed.

“You're really not used to doing this without a mirror, are you, Kuroo-san?” Kuroo frowned at his easy smile, trying to sort out what he could possibly be talking about.

“What?”

“Shaving?” Oh. Kuroo's brain sprung back into reality and he laughed to cover his awkwardness. 

“Ah, yeah. It probably looks like I had a fight with a wild hatchet. Better than nothing though, right?”

Daichi shook his head and leaned over to him, lifting his chin and angling his face up. Before Kuroo even realized what was happening, Daichi was dragging his blade across his face with a slow and careful stroke. Fire seemed to erupt beneath his skin, its source the warm fingertips pressed against his chin and cheek. His breath locked in his lungs as the metal, warm from Daichi's skin, now made its way across Kuroo's jaw line and partway down his neck. 

“You don't have to hold your breath, Kuroo-san. I'm not going to cut you.” Daichi's face was close enough that Kuroo felt the ghost of his breath against his damp skin and it forced a shiver through him. He tried to breathe easily, but he felt his heartbeat pounding at his pulse points. He wondered if Daichi could feel it. The paladin turned his face toward him and slightly away to reach the other side, Kuroo's shoulders shifting to face the man. Daichi's gaze was intent on the lines of Kuroo's face, the strokes of his blade so calm and deliberate. Kuroo's gaze flickered to his mouth, the desire to kiss him suddenly thrumming hot in his blood. He had just told Kuroo all about the man he loved, gave him every reason not to do anything, and yet his mind was playing the villain. Kuroo pulled his hands into tight fists and fought his instincts with every fiber of his being.

Finally, Daichi gave him a last appraising look over before pulling away. It was both a relief and a crushing disappointment.

“There. Now, you at least look like you won the fight with a hatchet.” He smiled brightly, flashing his white teeth at Kuroo, and the sorcerer swallowed hard. 

“Th-thanks.” He ran a hand over the smooth skin of his face and it felt electric after the paladin's light touch. 

“Thank you for asking about Suga. I haven't been able to talk about him much. It feels good.” Daichi stood and wandered back over to where their clothes hung, finally dry. He began pulling them on and Kuroo looked away. He'd given him enough, it felt wrong to steal any more of his privacy. 

“Tomorrow we reach the mountain pass. After that, it's only another day's ride to the outskirts of Shiratorizawa. We'll reach the the tomb by midday after. That will be the best time, with the sun high and the Lady's influence at its peak, for me to cut through the undead surrounding the area.”

“The mountain pass is supposed to be dangerous, right?” Kuroo asked him, pulling on his own clothes.

“Yes. The concentration of monsters is high there, so be prepared for battle.” 

“Ah, Daichi-kun, I'm a sorcerer, remember. We are always as well prepared as we will ever be.” He looked up just as Daichi's eyes met his, his smile wide and genuine.

“Then I have no concerns.”

As he turned away and back to the horses, Kuroo felt his heart squeeze painfully. This admiration, which seemed impervious to the issues he faced with this man, was becoming overwhelming. He felt confused and worried and raw. He felt too much. And their journey was only halfway over.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick CW, we do have an animal death in this scene. It's not graphic in detail, but wanted you to be prepared.

Daichi was trying to keep his focus trained on the surrounding trail, but there were unbidden things tumbling around in his mind that he had to keep shoving aside. They'd been traveling up the thin mountain pass for the last several hours and the quiet was stifling. 

Even if they had been able to talk, the path was narrow and their horses had to stay single file in order to avoid the precarious edge. At this point, the fall would be steep and deadly for both mount and rider, so they hugged the edge of the canyon, knees nearly brushing the rock wall. A fight along these ledges was usually fatal, so keeping a slow and steady pace was necessary, along with the silence.

He glanced over his shoulder at Kuroo, who was keeping his eyes glued to the treacherous edge of the path. He had his dark blanket wrapped around his shoulders just like Daichi, blending more easily with the surroundings that way, but he seemed no less vibrant. A dull ache in Daichi's chest longed for nothing but to hear him sing again. It was inconvenient. It was out of character. He was uncomfortable with how much he liked it. 

He repeated the mantra to the goddess he'd been saying all the way up this damnable pass. 

_ On the wings of the raven, I shall blend with the night, leave no whisper in darkness, til I reach morning light. Fly. _

It was an old mantra from the ancient texts, one which reminded the faithful that there were times when they must travel through the shadows in order to reach the light of the Lady. It had always calmed him in the moments he felt unsteady, and this was no exception. 

His focus was muddied because of yesterday's interaction with the mage. Kuroo had struck a heavy blow against him during their quarrel, but Daichi had blamed himself. He had not intended to insult the sorcerer, but the man's attitude regarding sex was simply jarring. Daichi had only ever had one partner, but their relationship had been long and complex. Even at their most passionate moments, the thought of it not being connected specifically to Suga was unfathomable. The idea that just anyone could substitute such a thing confused and frustrated him. And his anger had bloomed bright when Kuroo had so flippantly referred to love as frivolous. 

_ Daichi, honesty._ Suga's voice nearly whispered into his mind, a soft reprimand. Since his passing, maybe even before, his voice was like a compass in Daichi's head, keeping him steered into the Lady's Light. He was avoiding a big part of this reaction and he was doing it on purpose. __

His discomfort wasn't just with the idea of casual intimacy in general. It was specific to Kuroo. Imagining all those men putting their hands on him, slaking their lust upon him, caring nothing for the man with the honeyed voice and golden eyes, it burned in him. It made his muscles twitch with violence and a simmering anger that he had released at just the wrong moment. It wasn't that Kuroo was a delicate flower, but there was something about him that drove hard the protective instinct in Daichi, and it flared to life at the idea of him being manhandled. 

He shouldn't care. It was obvious that Kuroo not only consented, but actively sought such interactions. That he purposefully avoided emotional attachments. But how could he sing like that, in a way that would move the spirits to feel the whisper of life again, if he knew nothing of such things? The way he sometimes looked at Daichi, in the moments when he shared vulnerable and intimate things, it hinted at a man who felt much deeper than he seemed to imply. Yesterday had driven that home and Daichi was unsure how to navigate the dichotomy.

He'd spoken some about Suga with Michimiya, but she had strong opinions on their choice to become involved while being partners in the church. She was much more concerned with the rules of the Order than Daichi had ever been. Being able to talk to Kuroo about him had been surprisingly restorative. He'd worried at first that the mage would approach it with his usual crass humor, but he had listened, absorbed, and looked upon him with such earnest empathy that it had moved him. 

He truly hadn't meant to touch him. It had seemed so natural for a brief second, patches of black stubble littering his face, nothing could have been simpler than to reach out and fix it. But when his fingertips had pressed against his skin, the man's breath sucking in as his cheeks darkened to red, Daichi's thoughts had strayed. He'd imagined, for just a moment, pressing his lips to that curving jawline and that had been enough to send his mind reeling. He'd suppressed his worry at the intrusive thought well, doubled his efforts to remain calm and collected. But he had been a building storm on the inside and it hadn't yet cleared. It would be fine, though. He could make it through four more days with the sorcerer without losing his finely crafted self-control. Of that, he had no doubt.

As they rounded the edge of another switchback, an animal scream pierced the air. The horses stopped, nickering in fear, their eyes beginning to roll. The path was still too thin, fighting here could easily be their death, especially on horseback. He swung himself down and signaled for Kuroo to do the same. He waved him over and the mage made his way gingerly around the shuffling horses, to stand next to him. Kuroo's horse was still near the switchback edge and was slowly trying to maneuver around, to go back down the mountain. It would be a problem if the horses were lost, but not as much as if it was their lives. 

“What was that?” Kuroo whispered to him, his back tight against the rock wall. Daichi drew his sword, eyes on the sky all around them.

“Wyverns. Have you fought them before?”

“No, but I've read about them. Hunt in packs, poison stingers in their tails. Friendly bunch.” 

“We're at a terrible disadvantage here, but we've got no choice. Try to protect the horses if you can.” Kuroo nodded at his instruction, glancing back down the path. He raised one arm and the open air side of the switchback was suddenly protected by a wall of stone. It was a wise move, would keep the horses from tumbling off it as well as pin them down a bit better. 

Daichi asked the Lady for her blessing and a golden light shimmered around them for a moment. Now they just had to wait.

Like silent hawks, the three wyverns came around the cliff side in tight formation. They pulled up short as soon as they saw the horses, the largest targets available, and one of them let out another of the ear-splitting shrieks. 

One of Kuroo's pale arms shot out from under his dark blanket and a low hum resonated from him. His eyes flashed and a crackle of white lightning twined down his arm and leaped from his fingertips. The blazing bolt struck the front wyvern with a sizzling boom and then arced from it to the other two, disorienting them for a moment. The lead monster dropped several yards before catching itself and lifting back into the air. He hadn't seen a spell of that magnitude before and looked at Kuroo to nod his approval. 

The man looked more alive than Daichi had ever seen him. A wicked smile curved across his lips and his eyes nearly glowed. Electricity was discharging around him and it was clear, this was Kuroo in his element. A conduit of power and harbinger of death to those who stood against him. It was a new light that he was bathed in and it filled Daichi with a terrible awe. 

The sorcerer pulled both arms back in, hands in tight fists as bright flame began to flicker around them. He pushed outward, opening his hands and a small, bright bead flew from him to crash against the two beasts which had now honed their sights upon him. Fire engulfed them with another earth-shattering explosion and one of the wyverns fell, lose-winged, to crash upon the rocks below. 

A huge, draconic head lifted up in front of them from below, large enough to crack a horse's spine with its jaw. It snapped at them, the moment Daichi had been waiting for, and he struck it with his blade. It sunk into the brow ridge, slamming the thing's head into the path and allowing the paladin to pull his sword free before it yanked him over the ledge. It shrieked at them, so loud his ears were ringing as dark blood gushed into its eye.

He saw a bolt of fire fly from the sorcerer's hand to hit the other wyvern, who was hovering over the horses. It shrieked, but lashed out with its barbed tail, sinking into the animal's flank. Fuck. The horse reared and began to stumble down the path, but within a few steps, the poison took hold and it tumbled from the ledge. He didn't have time to worry, as a huge claw raked across his breastplate, leaving deep gouges in it. As another fire bolt hit the second creature, it moved from the remaining horse, eyes locked upon Kuroo as saliva dripped from its mouth. 

“Here kitty, kitty,” he heard Kuroo whisper and as the thing descended into the same airspace as their main attacker, the mage grabbed Daichi by his belt and pulled him back flush with the wall. His fist flew out again and the tiny bead of fire exploded in the faces of the two wyverns, the flames close enough to singe Daichi's eyebrows. 

A barbed tail came through the smoke and he reacted without thinking, shoving Kuroo aside as it slammed into the rock. He had just enough time to bring his sword down on it, severing the poisonous stinger. The creature must have attacked with the last of its strength, as it then plummeted down and out of sight. 

Badly singed, eyes most certainly sightless, the last wyvern gripped the path ledge with its two vicious claws. It had Kuroo boxed in, rearing back with both its tail and head for an attack. Kuroo raised an arm in front of his face. 

In a burst of speed he didn't think himself capable of, Daichi launched himself from the stinger still embedded in the stone. He rolled on the landing, making it under the wing of the monster and popping up in front of Kuroo with his back to the beast, using his body as a defense. Hands to both sides of the mage's head, sword pressed to the mountain side, he felt the stinger slam against his armor, crushing him against Kuroo. He heard the breath knock from his companion, but barely had time to consider it before jaws clamped around his middle. 

As his armor strained against the powerful maw and the razor teeth cut into him between the seams, he realized that he was likely going to die. The thing would pull him from the mountain and drop him to his death far below. He locked eyes with Kuroo for a split second, and he felt...

Before he could process, Kuroo had reached out over his shoulder and the boom in combination with the blast of heat told him that the sorcerer sent another ball of fire into the creature. The jaws around him slackened and started to pull away, but he was pulled off balance and teetered backward, pulled with the last remaining grinds of the teeth against his armor. Kuroo grabbed hold of his belt and breastplate, jerking him back up firmly on the path and against him. He heard the wyvern crash against the ground below them. 

With the threat neutralized, a few things snapped into a focus with stunning clarity. His body was pressed tight against the sorcerer's, pinning him back against the rock. They were both breathing hard, faces flushed from the danger and adrenaline. Kuroo leaned his head back against the stone face, and Daichi was granted a full view of his pale throat, glistening with sweat. With a sudden, breath-stealing intensity, a flood of desire shot up through him with such force that his fists clenched against the rock on either side of the man. His head fell forward to Kuroo's shoulder and he breathed in his scent, soap and sweat and ozone from the lightning. Everything about him was suddenly intoxicating and he wanted to touch him, to taste him. It was like a tidal wave which threatened to drown him. 

“Daichi-san, I didn't know post-battle cuddling was part of the paladin package deal. Nekomata really knows how spoil us.” He felt the rumbled laugh in Kuroo's chest and cold horror washed over him. He pushed back from the sorcerer, sucking in a shaky breath and wincing at his injuries. Kuroo was smiling through his labored breaths. His beauty was sharp, painful against Daichi's screaming nerves. He was glad for the metal encasing his groin, as he felt his painfully hard arousal throb with need. 

This shouldn't be happening. This hadn't happened to him in years, not beyond his few moments of privacy and certainly not for anyone beyond his partner. Three bitter, long years of desperate battles with many companions and his body had never betrayed him like this. 

“You know, you're bleeding all over the place. You might want to take care of that,” Kuroo rasped as he leaned over to catch his breath. Daichi looked down and saw several rivulets of blood leak down his silver armor. The pain was barely registering. 

Kuroo stepped up to him, his deft hands flying to the seam between his chest and back plates, his brow creased in concern.

“Hey are you okay? Do we need remove your armor so you can heal? Talk to me, Dai-san.”

“No! Stop!” He took a step back from him, shouting the response and batting his hands away. That name. The way he said his name. Only Suga had called him that. Anger boiled up within him and he was grateful for it, grateful for anything that wasn't the driving lust that threatened to overwhelm him. “Don't call me that. Ever.” 

Kuroo looked at him in shock, his hands still held out before him. He almost looked like he'd been struck. Daichi slammed his hands against his armor, letting the healing light flow through them and close the wounds beneath. When he looked back up, Kuroo's face had settled into a deep scowl.

“Whoa, sorry, I was just worried about you. Not like we almost died, or anything. Not like I just kept you from plummeting off this cliff to your doom. But yeah, let's get our panties in a twist about how I used your name. Lady's Light, you are the most confounding person I have ever known.” He stalked off down to the remaining horse, pulling it up the trail to where the paladin waited.

The tide was finally receding and Daichi felt like he could breathe again. The anger burned off instantly and guilt took its place. He looked over at the one horse and then down to his many pieces of damaged armor. At least one decision was easy.

“S-sorry. I just-nevermind. Sorry. You're not hurt, are you?” 

Kuroo huffed an annoyed sigh and looked at him, his eyebrows drawn together.

“No. But we've only got one horse now. So what are we going to do?” 

Daichi was already flicking many of the buckles open, letting pieces fall to the ground. Kuroo just watched him, saying nothing.

“Is there anything heavy in your satchel that can be left?”

“No.” He sounded indignant. Daichi blew out a heavy breath.

“Nothing?”

“No! Everything that could be sacrificed was on my fucking horse that fell off the godsdamned cliff, okay.” Daichi nodded in response to him. He opened the saddle bags, letting particularly heavy or generally unnecessary things join his armor pieces on the path. Once he was finished, he climbed up, scooting as far forward as he could. Then he offered a hand to Kuroo, who looked at him incredulously. 

“Come on. We just have to share this horse. I know it's not ideal, but if we walk it will take us more than twice as long to get there.” Kuroo hesitantly took his hand and swung up into the saddle behind him. Daichi tried not to think about the mage's thighs pressing against the outside of his. He was thinking about it though. As the horse sprung into motion, Kuroo's hands wrapped up and around him, finding purchase in the seam between his chest and back plates. He felt his fingers dig against the cloth there. 

“Thanks for saving my ass,” Kuroo said, quietly and close to his ear. Daichi tried to shake off the remainder of the feeling from earlier. It was just battle lust. That was something that happened to people all the time. It was normal and it was nothing. 

“Thanks for saving mine,” he responded. Kuroo just hummed and leaned his head against the back of Daichi's shoulder. 

Four more days. He could make it four more days.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take no credit for the lyrics or song, they belong entirely to Florence + the Machine. 
> 
> Don't worry guys, we're getting into thick of it here soon. Sorry this chapter is so long, just had some setup I needed to do. Just got to string these poor bastards along a little more. Here is the song Kuroo sings:
> 
> [Howl– Florence + the Machine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZweDwbJ_Ic)

Kuroo groaned as a bump jostled him and caused something to dig uncomfortably into his stomach. As he raised his head from the blanket, he remembered with an aching thud why he was pressed against so much metal. Daichi turned his head back to glance at him. Ugh, he was so freaking handsome, even up close, it made Kuroo want to punch him. 

“Sorry, I must have fallen asleep.”

“At least you don't snore.” 

Kuroo realized his hands had wrapped around Daichi's belt. He weighed whether it would be weirder to move them or to just leave them be. He pulled the blanket from Daichi's shoulder to give him a good reason to shift, storing it in one of the saddlebags. He snickered at the line of drool that ran down the back plate and wiped at it with his sleeve. Daichi turned back sharply again with a raised eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

“Just giving that tin can a literal spit-shine, apparently” He knocked against the armor and Daichi just shook his head. “Nothing? Not even an 'eww, gross, you degenerate?' I must be losing my touch.” 

“Haha, well you are a gross degenerate, but I've seen you drool all over yourself every night this week, so you can't shock me that easily.”

A number responses flitted through Kuroo's mind, ranging from adorably flirtatious to outright explicit. But he held them all, letting the quiet drift between them. Daichi cocked his head.

“What, no clever retort? Maybe you are losing your touch.” Daichi chuckled to himself, his shoulders bouncing pleasantly. Kuroo chewed at his lip.

The truth was, and it was a truth he was still trying to properly navigate, that he had grown to respect this man an unreasonable amount. It had happened even before the battle, but having him throw himself between Kuroo and that monster was...well, it was heroic. The experience had rattled him in more ways than one. 

He'd been sure he was going to die. It wasn't the first time, but the primal fear that gripped him had blanked his mind to every spell in his arsenal and left him defenseless to the beast. When something had slammed against him, he had expected the rending pain of the stinger or sharp tearing from the brutal teeth. But it had simply been pressure. When he'd opened his eyes, it had been to Daichi's straining face, his arms on either side of him, holding the wyvern at bay with his armored body. Kuroo lightly ran a thumb across the divot in the back plate where the tail had crashed against it. There were teeth marks along his sides. There had been no regret or hesitation on the face of his champion. His eyes had smoldered as he'd looked at Kuroo, and then shifted to something else. It was like fear, but more profound. He saw the man accept his death. In all his years of adventuring he had seen several men die in combat, but he had never watched the realization sink into them. 

He'd certainly never seen it overcome by sheer will, as Daichi had stood his ground. It had struck him to his very core. Enough to snap him out of his own fear and fire back at the creature, felling it and grabbing his companion before he could tumble over the edge. It must have shaken Daichi badly, as he had collapsed into Kuroo, hot breath against his throat and hands fisted against the rock face. 

Shaken. Exhausted, Relieved to be alive. Kuroo had certainly not seen a hunger pass over him, had not witnessed him rake his gaze down the sorcerer's body. No. That definitely had not happened. Battle did funny things to people, especially when death brushed so close. So it didn't happen. He shook his head, trying to chase away the heat from his cheekbones. 

“You should just sing it,” Daichi said. Kuroo's mind flung back to the moment.

“Hmm?”

“The song you're humming. I like the tune. Won't you sing it?” 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He hadn't even realized he was humming, but now that it had been brought to his attention, the context of the song came into sharp focus. Under the best of circumstances he would have hesitated singing it around Daichi, at this point at least. But here, pressed against him, with his voice carrying only a few inches to the other man's ears...no. It would...complicate things.

“Ah, I'll sing you a different one. One you'll like better. It'll be right in your ear though, are you sure you don't mind?” 

Daichi turned his body in the saddle so that Kuroo could see his entire face. His look was analytical and he was so very...close. He turned back around.

“I don't mind, but I want to hear that one.” 

“You won't like it.” Kuroo was panicking a little. It was beginning to sharpen his words in a way he didn't want. 

“I've liked everything you sing. You've never been shy about it before.” Kuroo's brows knit together at this. The stubborn voice of his pride whispered that he should just sing it, show the man a thing or two. He shoved it down.

“No, I'd rather not.”

“Kuroo-san, I just like the tune. If it's a bawdy bodice-ripper, my delicate sensibilities can handle it. You don't have to coddle me. Besides, since when do you spare me embarrassment? I thought you enjoyed deploying such tactics.” 

_ Since you saved my fucking life, you asshole._ But fine. If this was how it was going to be, then he would oblige. Some people only learn the hard way. __

He took a deep breath, beginning soft and low, trying to lean away from Daichi, but he aimed the words straight at the back of his head. 

_ “If you could only see, the beast you've made of me. I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free...”_ He watched carefully as Daichi's shoulders flexed back, his spine straightening as he took a heavy breath. Kuroo leaned just a few inches closer.__

_ “Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart. Drag my teeth across your chest and taste your beating heart. My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in. You are the moon that brings the night for which I have to howl. My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in. You are the moon that brings the night for which I have to howl.”_ To keep his voice low he had to hum the part that was usually howled, but it didn't diminish the affect. In fact, he focused in on the red that was beginning to crawl around the paladin's neck and ears. He could see over Daichi's broad shoulders, and noticed his hands tighten on the reigns. He'd asked for this. Kuroo leaned forward further, angling his words to the side. He wasn't quite close enough for Daichi to feel his breath, but the other man certainly knew he was getting closer.__

_ “Now there's no holding back, I'm making to attack. My blood is singing with your voice, I want to pour it out. The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound. I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground.”_ Kuroo looked up, tilting his head to sing above Daichi and raise the volume of his voice as he fell into the music.__

_ “Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins. I want to find you, tear out all your tenderness. And howl.”_ This time he let the word spin across his tongue, the smooth draw of his voice chasing the notes down their cascade. Daichi's shoulders inched upward, but Kuroo was losing himself and his ability to stay reserved as the passionate song rolled from him. __

_ “Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers. It starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters.”_ He hummed the melody in deep rich tones, tracing his fingers lightly over the plate at Daichi's back. He gripped the back of the paladin's belt and yanked him back against the sorcerer, caution left in the dust at their backs. His lips were close to Daichi's ear and man sucked in a breath which he seemed to hold. The next words Kuroo sang low and soft and dangerous, close enough for the breath to tickle against Daichi's skin.__

_ “The fabric of you flesh, pure as a wedding dress. Until I wrap myself inside your arms I cannot rest. The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound. I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallow ground...”_ He pulled back with the last word so he could sing it louder. He pushed the paladin forward a bit and Daichi blew out his breath, leaning over the reigns. Kuroo narrowed his eyes down at him. His voice dropped soft again as his companion slowly righted himself. __

_ “A man who's pure of heart, and says his prayers by night, may still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright.”_ Daichi's head dropped, his eyes must be glued firmly to the reigns that were in a vice grip between his gauntlets. There was more to the song, but Kuroo stopped. He let the air hang pregnant with the potential of more, until finally Daichi raised his head. __

After long minutes of the heavy silence, Kuroo finally spoke.

“Are you going to let me sing something else now? Or would you like to continue to question my discretion?”

Daichi almost turned to look at him, but changed his mind before those walnut eyes could fall upon him. Kuroo expected him to squeak an embarrassed answer.

“Whatever you wish, Kuroo-san.” The sorcerer's breath caught in his throat. If anything, Daichi's voice sound deeper, almost husky. Kuroo wet his lips. He liked the way he sounded. Had he...no. But perhaps? He wished he could see his face. 

He started in on a much lighter song, allowing the tension to lift. But it seemed that Daichi spoke slightly more softly with him for the rest of the day. When the night came, they sat next to each other, and Kuroo watched him nod off against a tree trunk before they had even put the fire out. The light danced across his features, the smattering of stubble already apparent on his face. The gold of his holy symbol glittered in the night. He let himself imagine a world where he simply leaned against the stalwart warrior and slept with the comfort of his level breaths beneath him. Foolish. But he let the fantasy lead him in to slumber.

As the eighth day of their quest dawned, Kuroo swore he kept catching Daichi looking at him. He wasn't sure he could go another full day just staring at the back of his head. As they approached the horse, he spoke up.

“Hey, my legs are killing me, can I ride in front for awhile?” Daichi just nodded to him, gesturing toward the horse. Kuroo climbed into the saddle and scooted forward, uncomfortably close to the saddle horn. Daichi swung up behind him, his heavy breastplate flush to Kuroo's back. He seemed to wrestle a moment with where to put his hands, but decided on the belt that sat just above Kuroo's hips. 

As Daichi let out a heavy sigh, Kuroo felt it blow across the back of his neck. Lady's Light, no, this wasn't awkward at all. He rolled his eyes. A pang of guilt hit him. He was fairly certain that if the paladin leaned forward and breathed low words of longing into his ear, as he had so boldly done to Daichi the day before, that he would absolutely lose his mind. 

“Kuroo-san?” His low voice jolted Kuroo out of his reverie, his humming stopping short. They'd only been on the thin and threadbare path for about an hour. “May I sleep against your shoulder? Since you so obligingly took point today.” The slight teasing in his tone caused Kuroo's lips to tug upward as well.

“Of course, that's only fair after I passed out on you yesterday. By the way, if you like, you can call me Tetsurou.” He felt Daichi's head settle against his shoulder, his thumbs hooking in his belt. Kuroo grit his teeth at the sweet flutter in his chest. 

“That's longer than Kuroo. Why would I call you that?” There was a smile in his voice and it made Kuroo chuckle.

“Oh yes, Sawamura-san, forgive my terribly cumbersome name.” He waited, to see if Daichi would reprimand this use of his name, but he didn't. He just hummed against Kuroo's shoulder. And it was...comfortable. 

Kuroo was alone with his thoughts, Daichi's warmth still pressed against him, and he argued with himself. Once this was over, he'd never see the paladin again, so this problem was only going to be insistent for a couple more days. It was manageable. After all, how often do you meet someone heroic and honest and strong and yet vulnerable, tragic and beautiful with a smile that rivaled the sun...

Fuck. As if to punctuate his inner struggle, Daichi's arms tightened around his waist suddenly, hugging him close. It forced the breath from his lungs and against his shoulder the warrior groaned a soft and forlorn 'No...' Kuroo squeezed his arm with a hand and started humming, and his grip relaxed around the sorcerer's middle. Kuroo's heart was a knot, pulling ever tighter because of this man. Fuck.

A few hours slipped by beneath the horse's tired hooves. As they crested one ridge, a smell hit him on the breeze that left a foul taste in his mouth. Death. Sickly sweet and unmistakable, it rushed up from the valley below. Kuroo squinted into the shaded moor that filled the landscape between them and distant city that reached upward to the sky in glistening spires. There was a dark line that shifted strangely through the expanse. Fear prickled at the back of his neck.

“Daichi,” he whispered, patting at the paladin's knee. Daichi's head popped up from his shoulder he looked for a long moment down into the rolling landscape.

“Kuroo, I need you to ride behind me for this.” The sorcerer swung down and let Daichi scoot forward in the saddle, climbing back up to sit behind him. 

“Tell me that's not what I think it is, down there,” Kuroo asked, speaking low and close to Daichi's ear, the trepidation heavy in his voice. 

“It is. Hundreds of them. Though, their location and movement make no sense. They should have congregated into a central hoard on this open fen, and the city should have drawn them. For them to remain in this line, unmoving...this has been orchestrated. We'll ride through them and stop about a mile from the tomb, try to find a place to sleep. Keep your spells ready.” 

Kuroo swallowed hard. Hundreds of them...how would they even ride through them? Daichi spurred the horse forward, but it was nervous. The animal kept trying to turn away from their path, nickering and shaking its head. Kuroo felt the same icy claws of dread under his own skin. This was crazy. 

As they approached, the creatures became identifiable, a shuffling mass of gray and desiccated bodies, their milky eyes turning toward them in unison. It was eerily quiet, the only sound a shuffling of feet against the muck of the moor. The smell was so overpowering that Kuroo had wrapped his blanket up and around his nose and mouth and it still intruded horrifically upon his senses. The shambling line took a grotesque step toward them and Daichi raised the holy symbol that hung at his neck.

A low, rumbling chant began to pour from him in a language that Kuroo didn't recognize. The symbol shimmered a moment and then seemed to burst into brilliant light, directed, like a lighthouse. He could feel the divine power emanate from the paladin, warm and reverent. Where the light hit, the undead retreated. As they approached and broke into the line of the creatures, they fell away from Daichi and his chanting, his voice building to a fervor. They gawked up at them and shivers ran through Kuroo at the sheer number of them, far more of any monster than he had ever seen. This close, it was also horrifyingly apparent that these were people once. Not just monsters like the wyverns had been, but people who had been corrupted and changed. If Kuroo and Daichi were to fall, they would be just like them. The thought shook him to his very core as he noticed one zombie in a fine blue robe, a lariat necklace still slung about his torn throat. He wondered if it was the wizard Nekomata had known. 

As they broke through the back of the line, Daichi didn't stop chanting. He chased away some of the dead that were thinning out but still filling the area around them. Kuroo could see that while the mass stayed a healthy distance away, they had begun to follow them. The light from the holy symbol flickered and panic began to pound through his veins. As it winked out and Daichi's voice faded, only the low murmur of the creatures and the slide and suction of their feed could be heard.

“Kuroo, I need to you disperse the ones behind us. Now. With everything you've got.”

He twisted in the saddle, drawing the tiny bead of fire from within himself and hurling it toward the shambling hoard. It exploded amongst them, sending limbs and bodies flying. The devastation was gut wrenching since the things fell apart so easily, the stomach-churning smell of rot and burned flesh like a choking cloud around them.

“Hold on and blast them again!” Daichi ordered, giving Kuroo just enough time to thread an arm around his waist before kicking the horse into a run. Aiming the bead from back of a running horse was more difficult than he would have thought, but it still hit its mark, sending another cascade of corpse pieces into the air. At the edge of his range, he dropped the last of his fireballs into the stragglers, hitting relatively few, but cutting off any interested dead from the main group. Their line appeared to reform and their interest in pursuit seemed to fade entirely. Kuroo breathed a sigh of relief. 

The rest of the undead were sparse, easily avoidable, though ever present. They barely spoke, as the tension in the air from the constant danger filled the silence with buzzing anxiety. After what must have been hours, as the sky began to darken, Daichi stopped them next to an old scouting roost. It stood perhaps 20 feet tall on long stilts with a small, square platform at the top. Daichi was looking up at it with a furrowed brow.

“What is it?” Kuroo asked him, voice at a whisper as one zombie close enough to hear bent its caved in head toward them.

“Up there. We could sleep, safe from the dead. We can walk to the tomb from here. I'm just trying to think of the best way to get us up there. I've got rope...”

“Stop. I can get us up there. But what about the horse?” In response, Daichi just dismounted, pulling his blanket, some rope, and a few rations from the saddle bag. Kuroo climbed down as well, and Daichi simply opened his satchel that sat on his right hip and shoved in the rations. He removed the saddle, bags, and bridle from the horse and then slapped it's flank, setting it off to a run. 

“Like I said, we're within walking distance. The horse wouldn't make it through the next hour if we tied it up. At least now it has a chance. Okay, get us up there." Daichi looked at him with absolute trust. Kuroo's chest felt heavy. Not just any man would have released a horse like that, would have thought to remove its bindings. Not just any man would have trusted him without question when he said he could handle things. Daichi shined as bright as that holy symbol and it made Kuroo's face heat in the cool night air.

He dropped the levitate spell on both of them, lifting their feet gently from the ground until they reached the platform above. It was small. Terribly small. Kuroo looked over at the paladin, who was already flicking the buckles of his armor open. It would be almost impossible to sleep safely without touching. What did it really matter, he thought. They'd been riding on the same horse for the last two days. This wasn't even as close quartered as that. 

_ Stop being such a schoolgirl about this,_ he told himself harshly. He rolled up one blanket to be a pillow for them and then shook the other out. Daichi hung the pieces of his armor from a protruding board and settled back against the rolled blanket. Kuroo leaned back as well and their shoulders sat flush with each other. He could almost feel the tension between them, like a cord pulled to the breaking point. Only the sound of the lone shuffling zombie below was evident. __

“We're in way over our heads, aren't we?” Kuroo asked, running a hand through his lopsided bangs.

“Yeah. I told you that already. They sent two men to do what an army should have been sent for.”

“Are we going to die tomorrow?” He saw Daichi look over at him from his peripheral vision and he turned slightly to meet his gaze. 

“Perhaps. So far we have evaded its grasp. Who's to say our luck won't hold?” He smiled then, devastating and glorious, like he was daring the world to try to wrest the life from his vibrant grasp. Kuroo's eyes had locked upon his mouth, unable to look away, begging for him to move even just slightly toward him. The moon was bright above them, nearing full, and he wanted, needed for Daichi to seek his lips and steal the fear from his lungs. 

He was so focused that he missed whatever passed through the paladin's eyes and an aching disappointment filled him as he turned away. His broad back rose and fell with his breath and Kuroo reached out, his fingertips inches from touching him, before he pulled back. No. Wishful thinking. His face had probably revealed too much. 

The weariness of the magic use sunk into him quickly and he barely had time to dwell on his companion before sleep rushed up to take him. Perhaps they would die tomorrow. But perhaps, their luck would hold out just a bit longer.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is kinda long. Battles take a lot of words. I hope you enjoy!

Daichi stared out into the night, sleep the farthest thing from his mind. The small platform allowed him little space to move, and while he wasn't touching the mage, he could definitely feel the heat from him beneath their shared blanket. It had been an hour or more since they ascended and Kuroo's breathing was even, had been for quite some time now. He knew the sorcerer slept soundly, the price of arcane magic use. Divine magic, like his own, wasn't nearly as exhausting, and for once, he was extremely annoyed by that. 

He turned slowly on to his back, trying not to jostle his companion. The little roost was not made for lying down and he could see the heels of Kuroo's boots hanging off the edge. For once, being on the shorter side was working in his favor. He looked over at Kuroo, his face slack and peaceful under the moon's silver light. Gods, the way he had looked at him...the echoes of it still curled sharp in his chest. The longing he had seen in him was unmistakable. 

The man's wild hair hid much of his face from this angle, so Daichi shifted, leaning over his sleeping form. He had kept himself from looking too closely at him before. After what happened at the river, he was worried that...that what? His mind had never given him a firm concern, it had just felt like an indulgence that he should deny himself. 

The looming threat that surrounded them had begun to banish such things. He gave in, knowing it might be his only opportunity to be this close to the man and have the freedom to observe him. He let his eyes follow the gentle curve of his brow, his almost delicate nose, the line of his lips. His jaw cut sharply over his slender neck, the subtle dip to the hollow of his throat spreading out like wings to his fine collar bones. His face was always half hidden by that damn hair.

With a hesitant shift, Daichi raised his hand to Kuroo's face, holding back for only a moment before ever so gently brushing his bangs to the side. Kuroo turned just slightly toward him, seeming to chase the delicate touch, and seeing his face whole in the soft moonlight stole the breath from his lungs. The sharp ache that had been growing steadily over the past week sunk its claws into him with a brutal ferocity. An ache that demanded that if he didn't touch him, his very soul would rebel. 

He traced his fingertips feather-light across Kuroo's cheekbone and down his jawline to his chin. Short, new stubble was rough against his fingerpads in places, but he didn't care. In fact, it drew him even more. He wanted to run his light touch down the sorcerer's elegant throat, to trace along the collar bones, and to delve beneath the red fabric of his robe. But, he couldn't do that. What he was doing was invasive enough to his sleeping companion. He lifted his hand away. 

“If you could only see, the beast you've made of me...” he whispered, the lyrics from the song from the previous day that had so punched into his very core. It had almost been like Kuroo had projected what his heart was feeling. 

_ A man who's pure of heart and says his prayers by night, may still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright._

A boiling tide of desire rushed up through him. Coals in a long dead fire suddenly flared to life as bright embers. He leaned forward, close to Kuroo, close enough to feel his measured breath across his cheek.

_ Daichi, don't, not while he sleeps. _ Suga's voice pulled him back. No, not while he was sleeping, that wouldn't be right. It was so hard to approach him while he was awake, unpredictable, his words and glances like weapons against the paladin's suddenly vulnerable heart. Daichi laid back, rubbing a hand over his face. All of this was moot if they didn't survive. __

“Lady, please help me. Just get us through this and then, I'll... Just please. Get us through.” He whispered the plea and then felt sleep finally pull at his limbs and he gladly let it take him under. 

When he woke, the sorcerer was curled against his side, one hand tight on his shirt. His peaceful countenance from the night before had vanished, replaced by a drawn and tight expression of fitful rest. He almost placed his hand over Kuroo's, but thought better of it. 

“Kuroo-san,” he said quietly, shifting just a little and the mage groaned. As he came to, he snuggled against Daichi, and it made the paladin's chest clench tightly. Then his eyes flickered open and he moved back quickly.

“Eh, sorry. Small space. Honestly, I didn't mean-”

“It's fine, Kuroo-san. Your proximity is the least of my concerns at the moment.” It was mostly true. Kuroo sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looking out over the moor. He looked pale and there were dark circles nearly bruising beneath his eyes. As Daichi began to rebuckle his armor into place, he noticed the ten or so ghouls that had gathered at the base of the roost. He looked out in the distance and could see the outline of the tomb, old crags of rock rising into the air like jagged teeth. 

His research had said that it was ancient, explored long ago and found empty except for the lingering decay that such places wallow in. Rumors from the city had been that it was haunted, but only in the last year had undead begun to appear. As he buckled the last strap, he turned to Kuroo who stared at it with grim resolve. He slapped him on the back to bring him back from wherever his mind had spiraled. He knew that look all too well. 

“Okay, get us down from here. If we can avoid our new friends, all the better.”

“How much do you weigh? With the armor?”

“I-I have no idea? Why?” 

“It's fine, just seeing if I can save a spell. If I don't burn two of them on us getting down, I can use it for something else later. But I better not risk it. Your armor looks heavy and my spell only supports 500 lbs. If the two of us go over that...” Kuroo clapped one hand against the other in a splat motion. Arcane magic was strange indeed. 

Kuroo lifted them and they floated down diagonally, away from the mass of undead that gathered beneath the roost. The group began to trundle after them, but they hit the ground running. It would take them maybe 15 minutes to reach the edge of the tomb. They just had to hope there weren't any large groups of the monsters that would catch them out in the open. 

They made it without much incident, though gaining an increasing following of the ghouls as they ran. They slipped through a break in the ancient and crumbling rock wall that surrounded the entrance to the tomb, making it so the ones following them could only enter single file once they caught up. The two men stepped into the large area, barren of living growth, with only the twisting gray vines that clung to the dark stones to mark that the place had ever supported life. They were breathing hard from the run, but the air in the clearing chilled them. Daichi drew his blade as one zombie lunged at them, breaking the thing apart with one powerful swing. 

“Nice,” Kuroo said to him, levity in his voice, but as the word left him, several other zombies rose above the stony rubble that surrounded them. Kuroo grimaced and passed him an apologetic look. There were too many of them to fight and still be fit enough to enter the tomb, so Daichi raised his holy symbol, allowing the Chant of the Dawn to roll through him and fall from his lips. The symbol glowed to life and the dead recoiled from it, shading their faces and turning away from them. Daichi marched toward where he thought the entrance was, praying that it was accessible and would not trap them surrounded by enemies. 

The opening was just a stairwell of black stone which led into the ground. It must have once been grand, as there were two clawed talons the size of hay bales on either side, broken off at the ankles. The statue they once supported likely made up much of the broken stone scattered around the clearing. Decades, perhaps even centuries of wear had covered the ground with dust and debris, but near the stairs the intricate tile mosaics that made up the path could just barely be seen. An iron gate lay over the entrance, a thick padlock securing it in place. Perhaps, if he struck it hard enough with his sword, they would still have time...

Kuroo darted around him and leaned down over the lock, his nimble fingers dancing in the air over the keyhole. It popped open with a clink, and the sorcerer pulled it from the gate, lifting the metal enough so that Daichi could squeeze down through it. He kept his chant going and his symbol high to keep the dead from approaching them until Kuroo slipped beneath the gate as well, allowing it fall closed with a clang. Then he released the divine power and zombies shambled close to the makeshift portcullis, their long arms reaching down through as they stumbled over top of one another. A light sprung into existence at Kuroo's shoulder, illuminating the rock walls in a soft glow. He looked over at the sorcerer with honest appreciation.

“I take back what I said about you not being versatile.” Kuroo grinned in response, and from his satchel he pulled out slender golden wand.

“I've got two blasts with this. It should tear through any of the undead down here, and ideally the necromancer too. Don't get in front of it.” Kuroo took a deep breath and turned, walking into the darkness without hesitation. He was so much braver than Daichi had given him credit for.

The deeper they traveled down the tight corridor, the more oppressive the smell became. Not only was the air dank and musty, the darkness claustrophobic as it pressed in on them from all sides, but the odor of decay hung thick in the back of his throat. Kuroo had to stop once, hand against the wall as he clamped a hand over his mouth, but he swallowed down the nausea and kept going. It made even Daichi's vision swim a few times, as it seemed to choke him in the suffocating miasma of rot. 

An old and decrepit wooden door emerged from the shadows before them and Kuroo reached out tentatively for the decaying handle. Daichi stopped him with a hand to his wrist. It was better if he took the risks, his armor and constitution better able to handle any traps or ambushes that may lay in wait. He swung the door open gently, keeping the mage behind him and inky blackness stretched before him. The humid air was so foul with decay that he held his breath as it wafted over him. 

Through the deep silence a pop sounded and a small, purple flame flickered to light at the edge of the room. Several more broke through the quiet in rhythmic beats, more violet flames springing to life and casting the room in a low glow. The light behind him winked out, allowing their eyes to better adjust. The horror of what was materializing before them made Kuroo grip at his arm dumbly. 

The room looked like a nave of a church, leading up to an apse which held a low alter. There were broken pews spread out haphazardly and the low lights shined from candles and urns that were set up around the room. Not an inch of the floor was visible. Bodies lay crumpled and twisted, indiscernible from one another in the mass of desiccated flesh. As he took a step forward, his boots stuck to the floor from the viscous ooze that covered it. One body was sprawled upon the alter and as Daichi's eyes fell upon it, it stirred. The figure raised up on its elbows, turning lazily toward them, a spray of blood red hair framing a face with deep set, round eyes and an unnerving smile. 

“Oh. What's this? Guests?” His voice was teasing but before they could even move the entire floor seemed to undulate around them. Dozens of ghouls raised their heads, pulling their putrefying limbs from the entanglement. It was too many. They would never be able to carve their way through. And deep in this unholy place, so defiled by the dark magic of the necromancer, Daichi feared his power to turn the undead would not be strong enough. Terror clutched at him.

From over his shoulder, the sorcerer raised his golden wand, speaking a word he didn't recognize. Kuroo's other hand flew over his eyes, which just barely blocked out the searing light that exploded from the thin piece of metal. A chorus of moans filled the air with one piercing shriek rising above them all. As the light faded, Kuroo's hand dropped from Daichi's face and he could see that almost a third of the zombies had been simply evaporated. The others lay to the side of the cleared space, trying desperately to get away. The necromancer sprung up from behind the alter, anger painted on his unsettling visage. 

“Wakatoshi!” he screamed loud and high and it echoed through the chamber. His hands shot over his head, his fingers waggling and Daichi felt his magic crash over them, the momentary smash of fear barely overpowered by his own force of will. Kuroo flung himself to the other side of the door, appearing unaffected by the spell as well. A thundering rhythm could be heard, growing steadily louder from behind the necromancer. Daichi charged him, sword at the ready. 

“Such bold heroes, come to take out the big bad monsters. How naive.” The red haired man sidestepped his attack, his sword sinking into the stone alter. This close, he could see the garland of bones that hung around their enemy's neck. He was smiling. Wide and crazed, his eyes lidded, he reached out and barely touched the paladin with the tips of his fingers. Pain leeched from them and he felt icy pinpricks delve deep beneath his skin, the cold making his muscles feel weak. The necromancer breathed in heavily, his nostrils flaring as his eyes danced and Daichi saw some his wounds begin to close, as purple light moved up from the hand he had touched him with to twine around his body. He licked his fingers salaciously.

“Hmm, your life tastes sweet, warrior. It makes me want to break your heart.” He took another swing at the mage, scoring a good hit, but his strength wasn't behind it. Whatever he had done to Daichi had a lingering affect that he was trying desperately to fight through. He looked back at where Kuroo still stood at the edge of the room, flaming bolts flying from him and into the remaining zombies which threatened to close around him. He had to trust that the sorcerer could handle himself. The main threat lay before his blade. 

A door behind him exploded outward, the old pieces of wood raining down on him as a violent roar split the air. Daichi turned and let his eyes fall upon the monster and a new dread welled within him. 

In life, he must have been one of the largest men to have ever lived. His skin was gray and his eyes milky, but no hint of other decay was notable on his form. He had no weapon, but his extremely broad chest and muscled arms told Daichi that one was likely not needed for him to do more than enough damage. His face was twisted in rage and his fist came down hard, slamming into Daichi's raised arm. The force of the blow sent him tumbling away from the alter, pain blooming bone-deep beneath his armor.

“Enter Miracle Boy, Wakatoshi!” the necromancer cackled, but he coughed roughly and blood trickled from his mouth. He cast a hand out over the room, and several of the corpses that had fallen stitched together and rose back up. The monster lifted the necromancer and sprinted back through the door and away from the battle. Kuroo was there at his side, a shoulder under his arm as he helped him back to standing. A wicked gash ran down his neck. 

They hurried through the door the necromancer had retreated through, Daichi already laying healing magic over his broken arm. Kuroo's wound was ugly, but he seemed to be at full capacity and the weakness that Daichi had been feeling was finally dissipating. They were still in fighting form and finding the necromancer while he was injured would give them the best shot at defeating him. 

“That monster, it's not a normal animated corpse. There's something more to it. Be careful,” Kuroo told him and he nodded.

“Why didn't your blast take out that necromancer? Surely he's not powerful enough to have resisted something like that?” If he was, they were completely fucked. 

“No. He ducked behind the alter just before the light reached him. It did some damage, but nothing compared to what it did to the creatures the light struck. He was actually fairly injured, but the spell he used against you healed him some. We should focus on him. If we can take him out, his minions will crumble.” Daichi nodded, understanding the situation easily. He whispered a prayer to the Lady and laid her blessing over the two of them. 

Kuroo passed his hands over his eyes and when he opened them, instead of gold they were glowing blue. He cast his gaze slowly around and then pointed and they both took off at a run. As they pulled up short outside of one door, after navigating through the labyrinth of corridors and rooms, Kuroo held his hands up. His eyes were squinted like he was looking into a bright light.

“They've really come for us Wakatoshi-kun,” the necromancer's lilting voice drifted through the door. “If another tower mage is here, it means they've learned about our little army. Once you kill these pests, it will be time to act.” 

Daichi reached for the door handle but Kuroo stopped him, head bent, listening. A low, rumbling growl issued and the necromancer laughed. 

“Yes. We can show them what happens when a city exiles Satori Tendou. They called me a monster, but we'll show them, won't we, my beautiful friend.” Another growl responded to him. The necromancer let out a whine that was pained and strangled.

“I'll make them pay for what they did to us. What they did to you. You're invincible now and no one will ever hurt you again.” Kuroo's eyes met his, the blue glow fading from them and a thread of sympathy passed between them. Whatever had happened to these men had been a catalyst to all of this. But it didn't matter now. Their threat was too great and there would be no choice but to kill them if Kuroo and Daichi wanted to survive. 

Kuroo squeezed his arm and laid a hand against the door. He nodded at the mage and the heavy wood shattered into pieces before him. The necromancer sat in the center of the room in a high-backed chair, his hand on the monster's head as it knelt before him. A devious smile spread across his features, as several skeletons rose up around him. 

“Oh, new friends. I'm afraid you've made a _grave_ mistake.” He threw back his head, laughing maniacally at his own joke as the skeletons rushed in around him. Kuroo threw out an arm, a low hum resonating from him as electricity began to spark all around them. The spiral arc of his lightning shot toward the necromancer, who paled, but the monster stood at the last second and absorbed the bolt. It still arced away from him in several directions, hitting most of the skeletons and crumbling them to dust. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

The two remaining skeletons that rushed Daichi met with his raised blade. He cleaved through both of them cleanly, scattering their bones. He rushed at the monster, assuming it must be badly injured, but as he came upon it, trepidation screamed through him. There were black marks where the bolt had hit on his chest, but otherwise the thing looked uninjured. It growled at him, baring its teeth and charged forward. 

The necromancer, Satori, rose up behind the monster, his eyes glowing the bright violet of the candles in the nave. 

“If you want to beat Wakatoshi, you have to beat me first.” 

_ He's underestimating you, Dai. Show him what a champion of Light can do._ He smiled at the phantom voice. _I'll show them, Suga.___ __

__

__

_ __ _

His blade began to glow as he filled it with the righteous light of the Lady's divine power. He sent his heart out to her, asked her to deliver justice in his next swing. As the monster barreled into him, his blade struck and sank deep, causing the creature to wail, a meaty fist meeting his face and filling his mouth with the iron taste of blood. 

Fire exploded around Satori, licking at the monster as well. As he pulled his sword free of Wakatoshi, dark, foul ichor spilling forth from the wound, he watched a ray of darkness spiral from Satori's fingertips and hit Kuroo in the chest. His sorcerer's veins blacked for a moment as his face tightened in pain and he screamed. Daichi's heart fell through the floor as he watched the mage crumple.

Another brutal hit crashed against his chest, denting his breastplate in and shoving him back. The necromancer howled with laughter.

“Maybe I'll raise your little friend right up and make you fight him again and again. I bet that would break your strong heart, eh paladin?” More skeletons stepped from behind the large chair he stood on. With Kuroo down, this fight would be unwinnable. He just prayed with all his might to the Lady that he wasn't dead. 

Daichi turned and ran, hoisting up Kuroo's body as he passed. Kuroo groaned and relief broke over him like a flood. He ran full out, crashing past the grasping claws of ghouls that peppered the hallway until he nearly fell into a small alcove. The sorcerer raised an arm weakly, palm up, and the stone floor rose to create a wall, cutting them off from the main hallway. They held their breath as they heard several undead shuffle by it. Kuroo stood and splayed his hands against the magical wall, breathing deep and ragged breaths as Daichi laid a hand against his back, flooding him with healing magic. 

“Fuck.” Kuroo's expletive was rasped through a shaking breath, despair curling up around both of them. Daichi spit a tooth out of his mouth that clattered across the floor. 

“Kuroo, we have to use the recall scroll. We can't defeat them on our own.” 

“We can't.” Daichi gaped at his response and grabbed the satchel from him, fishing out the scroll and shoving it roughly against his chest. 

“Do you want to die here? Do you want to become one of those things? Because that's what is going to happen if we stay. Use the fucking scroll, Tetsurou.” Anger edged his voice. He'd already seen the sorcerer fall in battle once. He'd be damned if he'd go through it again.

Kuroo looked up at him, golden eyes wide and wet, fear heavy in every line of his features. An intensity passed over him, his eyes narrowing and brow cinching as his teeth clenched together. He held Daichi's gaze as he looked down at the paladin, every aspect of his bearing hardened to iron.

“No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay friends, that was a lot of fighting and spell slinging. Obviously I don't expect anyone to know exactly what spells are being used (tbh, I don't follow the rules for them anyway), but please let me know if anything was super confusing, too technical, or too nonsensical. I move through these battles pretty similarly to how a D&D combat would progress in a mechanics sense, and I'm never sure how it comes out in writing. I'm open to constructive criticism if you see areas for improvement, so let me know in the comments if you feel like it. Thanks so much!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so we've got some heavy stuff in this chapter. I've got Content Warnings, but they are also pretty major spoilers, so I'm placing them at the notes at the end of the chapter, along with a short and sweet recap for the more harrowing bits. Proceed as you deem best. The CW begins after the bolded line "Such a pretty song."
> 
> There are two songs in this chapter, I take no credit for the lyrics or music of either, it belongs solely to the respective bands. If you listen to no other song in this whole fic, please listen to Take It All. It's so awesome you guys. Here they are.
> 
> [Take It All - Ruelle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KrHufPEdYAY)  
[How Far Does The Dark Go – Anya Marina](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=txpTzVCVFtM)
> 
> Satori sings a little song here which is actually from the Manga, Vol 18, ch 158, I believe. I didn't write it. 
> 
> I think that's all! Please enjoy! I foolishly stayed up til 3 a.m. writing this!

Daichi was looking up at him with such confused frustration that it was lashing against his determination, but still he held his gaze. He shoved the scroll against him again.

“No? No! Is it that important to you that you get your Remnant? So that you can leave Nekoma and have your own tower? Are you so mad for power that you would make this ridiculous gamble, with both our lives, to appease your master? Are you nothing but a trained dog, Tetsurou Kuroo?” His words beat savagely against Kuroo. Is that really what he thought? Kuroo shook off the wound of Daichi's assumption and leveled his hard stare back into the man's fierce brown eyes. He grabbed his wrist that held the scroll and pushed back at him. 

“No, you idiot! Because if we leave, he sends that hoard of undead to flood the streets of Shiratorizawa. You heard him, didn't you? He'll mount the attack the moment we are out of his hair, dead or just gone. It will take Nekoma another week to get reinforcements here. Even if they can warn the city, they can't hold off an army that won't stay dead for eight days! Don't you care about that? Paladin?” His last word was a staggering blow and he watched Daichi's resolve give way. He looked at Kuroo like he'd never seen him before, like someone new and dauntless stood before him. His other hand drifted up to his holy symbol, clutching it tightly.

“But Kuroo, if we die, then no one will know.” His voice had softened, was almost pleading with him and it tore at the sorcerer. He was afraid. If the terror rampaging through Kuroo was any indication of how he was feeling, he was certainly well understood.

“They will. Our lariats alert the tower if we die. If I die, Nekomata will know immediately and they still mount a defense. We've got nothing to lose.” He took the scroll from Daichi's slack grasp and shoved it back into the satchel.

“Except our lives. Your life, Kuroo-san.” Daichi placed a hand on his shoulder, drawing his eyes back to the paladin's deep, walnut gaze. There was something completely rending within it and it stalled the sorcerer for a moment, before he continued, his voice a whisper that filled the space between them.

“My life isn't worth more than the guard, or the baker, or the child who falls to that army. If there's even the smallest chance that we could win, that we could save them from this horrific fate...then, we have to take it. We have to.” His voice broke on the last sentence and he felt a tear escape his eye. He knew what the chances were, but they weren't zero. Daichi's hand found his face, the smooth leather of his gauntlet wiping the tear from his cheek as Kuroo struggled desperately to regain his composure. 

And then, there was breath against his lips and he lost it anew, as Daichi pulled the sorcerer against his battered armor. Kuroo let him, gasping at the sweet press of his mouth, his lips parting immediately with wanton desire. Daichi's kiss wasn't hesitant or chaste, it was crushing, and it moved through Kuroo's body like the chain lightning as it built within his blood. He moaned against the paladin as he felt his tongue press into Kuroo's mouth, sliding deliciously against his own. His arm was tight around Kuroo's waist, his other hand strong against his nape, holding him in place. Kuroo ran his fingers up through Daichi's hair, reveling in the taste of him. No kiss had ever burned so bright in all his nights of passion. 

For a brief moment of bliss, the horror was banished. Daichi pulled away from his mouth, dropping to his throat, where rough stubble preceded searing kisses as the warriors tongue darted against him. Kuroo hissed as he reached the wound which had not fully healed from his earlier ministrations. Daichi breathed him in and he felt the healing magic flood through every point of contact, making Kuroo gasp and shiver from the intensity.

Daichi grabbed the front of his robe and pulled him down for more, their mouths meeting hungrily again in the dark. They gasped and groaned into each other, but they could do little in the small space, Daichi's armor buckled firmly in place like it was made to keep Kuroo out. When they finally came up for breath, having at some point fallen into a sitting position with Kuroo straddling the warrior, he looked down at him with suspicion.

“Be honest with me. Are you just doing this because we're going to die?” Kuroo's voice sounded thin and breathless, but Daichi just chuckled against his throat, nuzzling his nose against the sorcerer's jawline. 

“No. It's to remind myself why I need to live.”

“You absolute bastard.” 

The paladin took Kuroo's face in his hands and made him look at him, his dark eyes shining in the bleak violet light.

“Survive this, Tetsurou, and I promise I'll make it up to you.” The sensual rumble of his voice made Kuroo bite his lip from the rush of arousal that crashed through him. 

“Fuck. Fuck you for that. We both better live or I swear on the gods...” Daichi's hands slid down his neck and shoulders and he gave him a smoldering look that sank right in to Kuroo's bones. He never thought he would see a look like that from the paladin. He had to live through this now. He took a deep shuddering breath, trying to turn his thoughts back to the task at hand. He extricated himself from the eager warrior and sat back against the stone wall.

“Okay, my wall won't last forever. We need to figure out what to do. I think the monster, that Wakatoshi or whatever, I think the Remnant might actually be...inside of him. When I was detecting magic to find them, he glowed like a firestorm. I'm guessing Satori has found a way to use it to keep him rejuvenated. Which means we have to take down that necromancer first. If you can keep the monster preoccupied, I think I can take him out. But, if we want to truly end the blight of undeath here, we have to get the Remnant. I didn't think about it before, but there's no way one necromancer could be keeping all these ghouls on their feet. He's just controlling them. The handful that will die when he does won't guarantee the safety of Shiratorizawa.”

“So even if we kill Satori, if Wakatoshi takes us down, we join the ranks of those things?” Kuroo nodded and he saw fear flicker across Daichi's face again. The warrior rubbed his hands over his face.

“Promise me something, Tetsurou.”

“A-anything.” 

“Don't let me become one of those monsters. If I fall, burn my body until there's nothing left. Please. And if I do turn, please, please don't leave me here like that. Kill me, however you can.” Like shards of glass, his plea tore into Kuroo and he lurched across the room to pull the paladin's hands from his face. He tilted his jaw up so that he had to look at him, his hands drifting down Kuroo's arms.

“I promise you. I'll save one spell for us, should it come to that. I won't let this dark magic defile you.” Then he kissed him again, soft and slow this time, like the warrior was something precious and breakable. Daichi melted into him and by the time he pulled away, he could feel the paladin's smile against his lips.

“But I plan to live.” Kuroo smiled back at him, almost purring against his seductive intent. Daichi pulled back from him then, his eyes wandering the contours of Kuroo's face as he reached over to where his sword had fallen and wrapped his fingers tightly around the grip.

“Will you sing for me? For us? I want to hear you at least one last time. Please.” Kuroo's heart constricted at his request and he stood, pulling Daichi up with him as they prepared to make their stand.  
“Come back out and play, little heroes!” Satori's taunting voice cut through the quiet. The two men looked at each other and Kuroo nodded. He reached out to the wall of stone. 

_ “Through hell's gates, the ground shakes, and valor wakes. And so it begins.”_ The wall of stone crumbled to dust beneath his command and the paladin raised his holy symbol high. It's light fell stark across the empty eyes of the dead that awaited them and shrank back from him as he stepped forward. Kuroo walked at his back, his footsteps sure as his clear voice punctured the darkness with an ethereal strength.__

_ “Vengeance waits. Fury reigns. With all at stake. So it begins.”_ And he felt it move through him, something more than voice and air, the sweet fiery embrace of the magic. It poured through him and lifted his spirit, sunk into Daichi and his symbol glowed even brighter, illuminating the hall enough to drive the dead into rooms and alcoves to escape its power. __

_ “Where worlds collide. Blood divides. When darkness falls. Fate calls.”_ The path was blocked with rubble ahead of them and Daichi turned into a room, his light falling over the crouching, monstrous form of Wakatoshi. The creature stood to his full height and grimaced at them, and Daichi let the symbol fall just as dozens of milky eyes rose behind the beast to stare into them. The warrior raised his sword with both hands, gripping it tightly.__

_ “This winter breath, taste of death. Where iron meets flesh. We'll take it all.”_ The bead of fire flew from his hands just as Daichi began his charge. It exploded behind the creature, igniting many of the ghouls who had been advancing on them. It felt more powerful than before, its flames licking higher and brighter. Wakatoshi still wore the deep gash from Daichi's holy attack earlier, which bolstered Kuroo's spirit further. __

He released a swarm of fire bolts that went crashing into the remaining undead. He still didn't see Satori anywhere, but he needed to control the weaker enemies as Daichi engaged the monster. The paladin was meeting him blow for blow, effectively parrying most of his attacks with his blade and scoring Wakatoshi's arms in the process. Kuroo had one fireball left, but he held it. He needed it, in case Daichi fell in battle. 

**“Such a pretty song.”**

Icy dread froze him as the voice came from just over his left shoulder and cold, clammy fingers pressed against the back of his neck. Pain lanced through him, like fire in his veins, stealing his breath and making his knees give out beneath him. Tears flooded his eyes as the spell wreaked havoc on his body from the inside.

“I know one too,” Satori boasted, right against his ear. The necromancer's fist wrapped tight in his hair, pain still spinning from his touch, leaving the sorcerer paralyzed from the tide of it. He saw Wakatoshi land a crushing blow against Daichi's shoulder, making him stumble back.

_ “What is it that breaks with a crickety-crack? Your heart, of course!”_ Satori sing-songed, one finger waggling in the air. His wide, horrible grin curving toward Kuroo. A violet ray shot from the necromancer's hand and hit Daichi right between the shoulder blades. Kuroo recognized it, enfeeblement, meant to sap his strength and weaken him. His next strike against the creature barely broke its tough skin. The pain had subsided enough for Kuroo to draw a gasping breath. They were going to die. Satori turned Kuroo's chin to look at him and a satisfied sneer bloomed across his eerie face.__

“I just love that expression. It's what I live for.” 

Kuroo's eyes tore away from him as the next hit from the creature sent Daichi tumbling backward. The monster leaped after him, landing heavily on top of him and slapping his sword down, his other meaty fist at the paladin's throat.

“I know why you've come,” Satori whispered to him, “you want the Remnant. But if I give it to you, I lose my friend and protector. Yet, if I kill you, you can't return and tell them all is well. So let us strike a deal, tower mage.” Kuroo looked up into his reddish eyes, his pupils small as pinpricks and his smile too wide and filled with madness. He heard the sound of a crushing blow and saw Wakatoshi slam Daichi in the face, hard, knocking his head back against the ground. 

“I'm listening.” His voice shook and Satori chuckled low and maliciously.

“I'll send my champion with you, with your little slice of ancient magic buried deep in his chest. I let you walk out of here alive. In return, you tell them there is no threat, so that when I take the city they won't see it coming.” Kuroo looked at him skeptically.

“After how you talk about him? You'd really give up your protector?” Satori's eyes flickered over to the two warriors as another brutal hit connected with Daichi. 

“Oh, not to worry. In another few seconds, I'll have yours.”

He held the screaming panic at bay, his focus diamond sharp. If he said no, Satori would just, kill him, right here, right now. Then they both die. So he held out a hand, his face a mask of deference.

“Then I guess I have no choice.” 

Malevolent joy broke across the necromancer's face and he grasped Kuroo's hand tight. 

There was only time for a brief cock of Satori's head, a subtle shift in his expression to confusion, before the wand that Kuroo had secured to his forearm after its first use erupted with searing light. The necromancer didn't even have time to scream as the light tore through him, burning flesh from bone in instance with its radiant power. It was so bright and terrible, that by the time Satori's charred bones clattered to the floor, Kuroo was too blind to see them. The wand crumbled to dust, its magic spent. 

The monster's roar was deafening. Kuroo flung himself away from the remains of the necromancer as Wakatoshi's heavy footsteps pounded over to them. Kuroo was beginning to see again and he could make out the outline of the huge creature knelt over what was left of their enemy. His bleary eyes searched the darkness for Daichi and found him. 

He didn't know how he managed to propel himself across the room to his companion, but as he fell next to him, his stomach lurched into his throat, and horror locked the air in his lungs. Daichi's face was so bloodied it was barely recognizable. Kuroo didn't know how he could have survived the brutal assault from the creature, but his fingers found a thready pulse at the warrior's neck and he finally swallowed back the rising dread. With a strength born of terror and need, he managed to drag the paladin to a small alcove, similar to the one they had hidden in before. Just as Wakatoshi turned his furious gaze upon them, Kuroo brought the wall up that would buy them ten minutes. It was his second to last spell. Only one now remained. 

There were healing potions in his satchel which could revive the paladin, but as he reached for it, it was missing. It must fallen from his shoulder at some point in the battle. It had also held the recall scroll that could get them home. 

A roar tore through the air around them and the creature's first strike against the stone wall rattled even the floor beneath his feet. Despair leeched into him as he looked over at Daichi, his ragged breaths wheezed from his shattered face. Sorrow gripped Kuroo's throat tight, burning in his lungs as hot tears reached his eyes. After all this, they had failed. They were going to die and the Remnant would keep the dead up and moving. Having the necromancer dead would spare the city at least for awhile. But as he looked upon the broken man who had somehow managed to change him over just 9 days into a foolhardy hero who actually believed in love...he wasn't sure it was worth the sacrifice. 

He lay down next to him, his lips close to the warrior's ear. He swallowed hard, trying to regain his voice as the violent beating of Wakatoshi's fists against the stone pounded through the small chamber.

“Daichi, we did it. We killed the necromancer. Shiratorizawa will be safe. You were so brave...” his voice broke and he clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle the sob that wracked through him. 

“The bards may never sing about our deeds, but the gods will know.” He slipped his hand into Daichi's, but it didn't tighten or move in response to his touch. His breath grew shallower. The little voice in Kuroo's head was telling him that it was almost time. Every part of his soul screamed in torment at that knowledge.

Daichi's holy symbol slipped to the side and clanked gently against the side of his breastplate, barely audible over the roars and slams of the monster outside. White-hot anger flared in Kuroo. 

“You fucking bitch. What good is all your divine power if you can't even save such a man as this.” He sat up and his eyes turned upward as tears tumbled from the corners. Only deep, inky darkness lay above him, no sign of the brilliant sun that touched the earth high above. One last song. One last plea.

_ “Darkness leaves me breathless. Who blocked out the sun? Shadows make me reckless. Am I the only one?”_ He could almost feel it rise, a different kind of magic, drowning out the pounding rage of the beast outside and sewing his sorrow into the world above. __

_ “Playing games, in the black, through the night. Stumbling, close my eyes. Standing here, on the edge, petrified. All alone, on the side...”_ He fell forward, burying his face in his hands as he bent on his knees in the wicked darkness. Cold, alone, and with their deaths waiting in the magic in his blood.__

_ “How far does the dark go? Give me an omen, give me a sign. How far does the dark go? Give me an answer, show me the light...” _

Something warm swept over him, like gentle sunlight, and he looked up as the holy symbol glittered to life of its own accord. He stared in shock as the gold glimmered and light played across the wall next to them like sun on the water. As he watched it, to his amazement, a figure emerged. 

The radiant glow that made up his features was almost diminished by his beauty. His face was innocent and kind, sparkling hazel eyes soft but intense as he looked at Kuroo. There was a small beauty mark just under his left eye and his face was framed with shining silver locks. He smiled at Kuroo and it was like seeing heaven through a looking glass. 

He looked down at Daichi and his delicate brow wrinkled. He brushed a shining hand across his face, but it didn't even ruffle his hair. There was a twinkling at his chest and Kuroo looked down to see a holy symbol just like the one Daichi wore. Shock and wonder broke over him. 

“You. You're...” The specter met his eyes again and smiled sadly, nodding with such grace that it made his chest ache. Heavy guilt settled upon Kuroo as he watched the man pass Daichi a look of longing. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't save him.” 

The ghost of Sugawara reached out a hand and cupped Kuroo's cheek, the touch yielding nothing more than a slight warmth, like a sunbeam passing over. He shook his head at Kuroo and brought the hand back to his symbol. He took it in both hands and then looked right into Kuroo's soul, or so it felt, and snapped the golden ornament in two. Brilliant light broke over him as the two halves of it faded and he looked at Kuroo with expectation. The message was clear. Kuroo nodded his understanding. 

The resplendent spirit leaned close to Kuroo and he could feel peace within its light as never before. He felt the glow of it against his cheek, a slight movement of warm and inviting air against his wild hair. A whisper found its way into his mind, light as a snowflake.

_ “Take care of him.” _

As the specter leaned forward to brush his lips to Kuroo's forehead, he could smell summer wildflowers and feel the soft touch of sunlight upon his skin. Sugawara turned to Daichi and cupped his face in one hand, brushing his lips lightly across the paladin's. He gazed down at him with such soft sorrow for only a moment before turning to Kuroo, his face set and resolute. Kuroo took the holy symbol in both hands and struggled for only a moment before it snapped between his fingers. 

Light burst from it, and Sugawara's apparition disappeared in its wake as it washed over Daichi. The golden light clung to him like a blanket of fireflies, until it seemed to absorb into this skin. The vicious wounds he had sustained faded, as if they had never been there, his face regaining its handsome shape and his breath pulling strong at the air around him. As Daichi's eyes fluttered open, Kuroo just stared at him in awe. He would have to spend the rest of his days thanking the Lady. And he'd do it gladly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: SPOILERS included  
There is very heavy violence in this chapter. In the final confrontation Daichi is near death from fighting Wakatoshi, and his face and head are injured. I describe how these injuries are received and make several more references to them from Kuroo's perspective.  
*  
Satori is killed. His death is described in relatively graphic detail, and while it's not really gross, it's still somewhat disturbing, particularly if you connect with his character.  
*  
The ghost of Suga appears. While his spirit is 100% a positive aspect in this scene, he is a ghost.  
*  
If these make you too nervous about reading the chapter, I'll provide a recap from the bolded section (Such a pretty song.) on that skips the gory details:
> 
> Satori uses a spell that immobilizes Kuroo and offers him a deal. He will send Wakatoshi and the Remnant with him if Kuroo will leave and inform Nekomata that there is no threat. Wakatoshi has gained the upper hand in his battle with Daichi, and Satori claims that soon Daichi will be his. Kuroo accepts his offer, and upon shaking his hand, uses the wand from their first encounter with Satori to kill him with its last spell. His death and the more graphic descriptions of Daichi's injuries are both finished at “Only one remained.”
> 
> Wakatoshi runs to Satori and leaves Daichi, still barely alive. Kuroo pulls him into an alcove and creates a wall to protect them from the rampaging monster. He knows he will likely have to use his last spell to fulfill his promise to Daichi to keep them being turned into ghouls. In his sorrow, he sings another song and Daichi's holy symbol glows. The ghost of Suga appears. This runs from “Something warm swept over him,...” to the end of the chapter.
> 
> Suga shows Kuroo that he should break the holy symbol Daichi wears and bids them both a final farewell before disappearing. Kuroo breaks the symbol and it heals Daichi, reviving him from unconsciousness. 
> 
> I hope this was helpful, but if you feel it needs more (more specific information, more actual point references, etc.) please let me know with a comment. As always, thank you so much for reading.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've almost made it, my friends. There's a bit of a Content Warning I'll place at the end that's a little spoilery (though you are probably very aware of where this is going), but there's nothing as graphic as what was in the last chapter. Thank you for bearing with me through all of this <3

_Daichi lay in the field, surrounded by fragrant summer grasses, with the moon bright above them. His fingers interlocked with Suga's, as he simply breathed in the warm and inviting night air. He'd never felt so at ease. His thumb trailed lazy circles over the cleric's knuckles, his bare feet tangling in the grass._

_ Suga sat up on an elbow, looking down at him, his face the very essence comfort and home. Daichi brushed back his windswept silver hair, lingering on the dark beauty mark under his left eye. He smiled sweetly and leaned in to the touch. It warmed the paladin's heart. _

_ “Dai-san, do you want to run away with me?” It made him chuckle as he leaned up on his elbow as well to face his lover fully. Suga's hazel eyes were soft and his earnest intent brought a smile to Daichi's lips._

_ “Run away? I've got nothing to run away from, Suga-san. We can just run forward.” Suga's face shifted, a hint of sorrow drifting across his features. “What is it, my love?”_

_ “No, Dai. This time, if you come with me, it means leaving everything else behind. Will your heart be at peace with that?” His fingers moved across Daichi's brow, which had crinkled in confusion. He didn't really understand, but there was something pressing against him in the back of his mind, something urgent, but he couldn't grasp it. He looked into Suga's gentle face and a terrible sadness passed through him. He wanted to go, to forget everything, to never have to worry again and live within the light of his beautiful love. But there was something, something that wrapped around his ribs with tender longing...a promise that he needed to keep._

_ “I can't. There's something I cannot run from. I want to go with you, but my heart...” He clenched his fingers in his shirt over his heart and it beat painfully in response. He was afraid that Suga would be disappointed, but he smiled sadly and nodded instead. _

_ “I'm glad. You have wished for me ask you for so long. Nothing brings me greater joy than for you to have a reason to stay. Someone is waiting for you, Dai-san. You must hurry.” _

_ “What?” But Suga stole his words with a soft kiss, his lips barely brushing against Daichi's. He felt like sunlight passing between the boughs of a tree, fleeting in it's warmth and succor. As Daichi reached for him, a terrible pounding grew within his ears._

As the dream melted from him, he took a deep breath, waiting for the pain for sink back into him as his eyes opened to the dark room. As he sat up though, no pain crashed through him as it should have. In fact, his body seemed to be glowing, a soft golden light that was quickly fading. His damaged breastplate dug into him in a few places where it had been dented, but the brutal damage he had sustained at the hands of the monster had been completely healed. 

Kuroo sat on his knees next to him, his eyes wide and his face streaked with tears and dirt. His mouth hung open. In his hands were two halves of Daichi's holy symbol, snapped clean to separate the sun from the moon. He looked like he was holding his breath. The monster roared outside, the small space filled with the cacophony of its blows against the stone wall. 

“You...you're...okay. I...” Kuroo's voice broke and fresh flood of tears cascaded down his face as he bent his head. Daich grabbed him, pulling into a crushing embrace as sobs wracked his entire body. “I'm sorry. Your symbol, I used it to save you. But it was...” 

“Shhh, it's okay.” He let healing magic wash through Kuroo, could feel the damage that had been done to him, though barely any wounds appeared to mar his body. He'd seen the necromancer touch him, and had known what he could do. As the creature had beaten him into oblivion and he had known that he could do nothing to save the sorcerer, he had flooded with a terror he had only known once before. Seeing him here, alive and intact, was all he could have asked for. 

“It was a spirit. The spirit of your cleric. He came to me and he showed me what to do. I...I didn't know that such things were possible.” He pulled Kuroo back to look into his face, basking in his beauty that rooted Daichi like an anchor to this world. He remembered only parts of the dream, but knew that Suga had been there. Had he truly come to the sorcerer, when Daichi rested on the cusp of death? How was that possible? Nothing in his teachings with the church suggested that it was, but here he sat, alive when he should be dead. The holy symbols were not magical, just a talisman to direct their power through, so breaking it should not have done anything. 

The monster screamed again, and he realized that now was not the time to dwell on such things. He kissed Kuroo, swiftly, and leveled him with a focused look.

“Satori?”

“I killed him. There was no other choice.” Daichi nodded in response looking up at the wall. The creature was probably in a rage from the death of its master. But without the necromancer, it should be easier to damage. He had the power to use his holy smite once more, his sword thankfully hooked in his belt, lie next to him. The only problem was, when the sorcerer brought down the wall, the thing would likely charge Kuroo first since he had slain the necromancer. Daichi had just used the last of his healing magic on the man, but he could tell that he was still injured. If the thing hit him hard enough, he could die.

“What spells do you have left? Anything that could stop it or slow it down?” Kuroo bit his lip, a pained expression on his streaked face.

“I just have one. I was saving it for us. I can use the fire, but it would burn you too. None of the other lesser spells I can sacrifice it for are useful or guaranteed to work. Even the fire barely touched it before.” There was such bitter desperation in his voice. Daichi grabbed his shoulders and shook him gently. 

“Just use it. If it even slows him by a second, it will be worth it. I'm fully healed, I can withstand it. But I'm not sure you can survive a hit from that thing. I didn't come this far to lose you now.” Kuroo's teeth were gritted tightly and he looked away, bitter helplessness written in the lines of his face. “Just buy me one hit. One. You've done all of the heroics so far. Let me take this one off your shoulders.” 

Kuroo's golden eyes searched his for a moment before he pulled Daichi into a feverish kiss. Every time their lips met, it was a fresh realization that Daichi had been suffocating in his solitude for the stretch of eternity since the death of his partner. Somehow, this man had been his salvation, and it was his turn to pull them through this and out of the darkness. 

When they pulled apart, Kuroo's eyes shined with barely contained tears again.

“If I kill you, I will never forgive myself. It will destroy me.”

“Then I am invincible.” Daichi spoke with such solid determination, forcing his belief into the shaking mage. He needed him fully here, ready to act. He stepped back, taking his blade in both hands and beginning his prayer to the lady. The steel began to glow with power. No matter how much the fire burned, he had to strike the beast. Kuroo raised his hands, ready to dismiss the shaking rock wall that held Wakatoshi at bay. Daichi saw his eyes flick back to him, fear heavy in their shining depths. 

“There's only one of him, Tetsurou! There's two of us!” 

As the wall began to crumble, Kuroo's eyes widened, his eyebrows shooting up. Daichi braced for the impact of the flames, but as the creature roared at them and descended upon the sorcerer, no light erupted. A moment of stark terror shot through him as he began to bring the blade down, but then something strange happened. Kuroo's form flickered and then three copies of him appeared, filling the small chamber. They recoiled in unison, throwing arms in front of faces, mirror images of the real man.

Wakatoshi crashed into one of them, a vicious blow that would have likely torn the sorcerer in half. But instead, despite it attacking where the original Kuroo had been standing, the figure simply dissolved the moment the creature touched it. Three mages remained as Daichi's blade connected with the thing's back. 

An explosion of light filled his vision as the monster wailed. He could almost feel the holy power of his weapon burn through the dark magic that had kept him animated for so long, striking deep into the heart of what had desecrated this place. The radiance of the Lady flowed through him, thundering through his veins and his heart before pouring out of the blade and into the poor beast that once had been just a man. It crumbled to dust before him, leaving only a shining, metallic artifact with deep purple runes glowing starkly on its surface. 

There was beat of deep silence, the only sound the heavy breaths being pushed and pulled from their lungs. Then, with the flood of victory and relief, Daichi lifted his blade and shouted, his cry echoing from the many walls of the ancient tomb. Joy and hope swelled within him and he reached for Kuroo, only to have the image dissipate in his hands. He laughed uproariously, Kuroo joining him, the two remaining versions of him doubling over in laughter.

“Gods damnit, where are you?” He rasped through his mirth and the last image faded as the true Kuroo stepped into his arms, his face split wide in a smile. Daichi hugged him tightly against his chest, his sword clattering to the floor as he gripped the sorcerer's robes with all his strength, relishing the feeling of his warmth and his rumbling laughter, pressing his face into the dip of Kuroo's shoulder and wishing he could never leave it. 

“What did you do? How...?” Kuroo snorted at his confused questioning.

“I had forgotten about that spell. I'd never used it for battle before. It was a gamble, there was still a chance he could have attacked the real me, but the odds were better than simply hoping you survived my fireball. When you said there was only one of him and two of us, I just realized that, why have two when you could have five?” He was still laughing and Daichi swore he would do whatever he could to keep hearing it for as long as the mage would allow. He pulled back from him, giving the sorcerer a serious look. 

“I sincerely hope you don't feel that way about every scenario.” Kuroo gave him a questioning look, right up until Daichi's mouth twitched at the corner, betraying him. Realization at his joke broke over the sorcerer and he roared with laughter anew, pushing away so he could double over with it. Wiping tears from his eyes, he grinned widely at Daichi.

“Hmm, I guess we'll have to see if there are any areas where two can get the job done best.” The flirtation was light, but it sunk into Daichi with the realization that, yes, they had survived. They could return home. His body grew suddenly heavy with desire as his eyes drank in the sorcerer hungrily. He would have him. He could finally touch him and spoil him and make him pay deliciously for all those teasing words and suggestive moments over the past several days. He'd been aching for him for so long with no end in sight that the tantalizing reality that he could have him burned white hot within his chest.

A deep blush spread over the sorcerer, visible even under all the dirt on his face. He coughed and ran a hand up through his disheveled hair. 

“Gods, don't look at me like that here,” Kuroo said, his bottom lip pulling between his teeth as his eyes fell to the floor. This sheepish side of him, it was just as alluring as the confident playboy. Daichi wanted all of it.

“We should find that scroll,” Daichi rumbled and Kuroo nodded, darting from the room, as Daichi picked up his sword and replaced it in his scabbard. The mage returned within moments with the satchel, taking out a dark cloth first, which he wrapped around the Remnant and tied off with a silver string. He placed it gently in the bag and removed the recall scroll. 

His hands stalled as he pulled the tie on it and he looked up at Daichi with a vulnerability that melted the paladin's pounding desire for a moment.

“Daichi, did you really think that I would have risked our lives just to please Nekomata?” The weight of his uncertainty crashed into the paladin as he thought back to their fight about the scroll. It seemed like it had happened days ago, but he remembered now the cruel things he had said to the mage. He would have said anything to get him to use that scroll and get himself out of this situation.

“No. I wasn't really thinking of why you might want to stay. I didn't care. I just wanted you to be safe. I'm sorry for what I said. I was only thinking of your life and your safety above all else. You proved yourself a greater man than I, and I'm...I'm humbled by it. You really are a true hero, Kuroo-san. You saved countless lives today and you risked everything to do it. You reminded me of what it means to be a servant of the Light.”

Kuroo had watched him with wide, unwavering eyes, his breath held tight. As Daichi finished his apology, the sorcerer brought a hand to his mouth and fresh tears fell from his eyes. He wondered if anyone had ever seen this side of the mage before. If anyone knew who he was under the false bravado and coy remarks. Brilliant admiration glowed deep within him. He grasped Kuroo's shoulder with unrestrained affection.

“Let's go home, Tetsurou.”

Kuroo wiped his sleeve across his eyes and cleared his throat, opening the scroll. He chanted in the strange tongue and the rune on the scroll glowed a brilliant blue. There was a disorienting feeling, a spinning and a pressure against his ears, and then his feet were once again on solid ground. 

The light of the tower receiving circle was almost blinding after the darkness of the tomb. Daichi breathed deeply of the fresh air, free of the putrid stink of decay. In the light, he could really see how rough Kuroo looked and figured he likely didn't look much better. Their clothes were ragged, stained with blood and dirt and they were both covered in enough muck that their skin was grayish. Scratches and some larger wounds on Kuroo were visible beneath the layer of grime. Mages crowded around them, talking a million miles a minute and he couldn't seem to really focus on any one of them. It felt terribly surreal after the endless battles in the darkness, with death nipping constantly at their heels. There, only one voice had mattered to him.

A short man with a slight frame tugged at his gauntlet, his hair a shocking yellow blonde that turned dark brown near the root. His eyes were golden, like Kuroo's. 

“Come with me.” Daichi looked at Kuroo and met his eyes, and the sorcerer nodded to him. He didn't want to go. He didn't want for this to be the end of it. The smaller man tugged at his sleeve again.

“Tetsurou told me to take care of you. He will have to report to the Archmage immediately and he doesn't want you to get kicked out in the meantime. My name is Kenma Kozume. Now, you can come with me and see Tetsu later, or you can go back to the guild. Your choice.” Kenma gave him an uninterested shrug and he nodded, following after the two-toned mop of hair. He passed one more look back to Kuroo and found his eyes already on him. They shared a silent wish before Kenma pulled him down a corridor and away. He would do whatever he had to to see the sorcerer again. His heart was clear about that much at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW:  
-Wakatoshi is slain in this chapter. Hopefully it's not as rough to read, since he's fairly detached as an undead monster, but if you're uncomfortable reading that part, stop reading at "...mirror images of the real man." and pick back up at "There was a beat of deep silence..." 
> 
> All you will have missed is that the monster attacks one of the mirror images of Kuroo that dissipates and then Daichi uses his holy smite, which slays him and leaves only the Remnant behind.
> 
> The last and final chapter will be finally letting these guys get together and I'm so freaking excited for it. I hope you are too. Thank you so much for reading and I appreciate every one of you!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter. I'm so excited to finish this lovely tale. Thanks to everyone who has supported me along the way. 
> 
> There's a decent amount of explicit content in this chapter, so if you should not be reading that or would simply like to skip it, I have bolded the beginning and end of that section. It starts with “It's my room, you idiot..." and you can pick back up with “I didn't hurt you, did I?”

Kuroo stood under the warm cascade of water from the blissful shower the mage tower provided. His body had been healed, but every muscle screamed at him from the abuse he had taken. His skin was finally clean from the layers of dust, sweat, and blood, but the stink of that damn place felt like it would cling to him forever. 

He rested his head against the tile wall, sighing as the water spilled over his back. His dream was becoming reality. As he'd stood before the Archmage, one of the tower's clerics pumping him full of healing magic, he'd seen the man truly shaken. He'd never come back looking like this, no one had, and as he had recounted the events at the tomb, he found more sympathy within Nekomata's eyes than he had expected.

“Kuroo-san, you should have listened to your guardian. You should have used the scroll the moment you realized that you were out of your depth. Those were your orders. Gods damnit, I didn't send you there to die, you foolish man.” Nekomata's words held such care and concern that Kuroo felt his jaw slacken as he stared at him.

“Sir, I couldn't just leave the people of Shiratorizawa to the mercy of that mad man. I had to try.” Nekomata stared at him for a long moment before picking up an envelope from his desk and coming around it to stand before Kuroo directly. He placed a hand upon his shoulder and squeezed, more affection than Kuroo had ever seen the man show anyone. He handed the envelope to him.

“As long as that was the reason, I would be a poor mentor to say anything but thank you. I'll be sending a magical missive to the Lord of Shiratorizawa tomorrow morning to inform him of what you and Sawamura-san have done for their city. Do not be surprised if there are invites and rewards and plenty of other pleas for aid that come your way because of this. It may not feel like it now, but your acts of heroism are the thing that ballads and books are written about. Tomorrow, I would like for you write a detailed report on everything that happened on your journey. There will be scholars who wish to read of it for years to come, so choose your words wisely.” 

The ramifications he spoke of had never occurred to Kuroo until now. He stared dumbly at the envelope in his hand, his mind trying to grasp what it all meant. He held up the paper and gave Nekomata a questioning look. 

“That is your letter of promotion and seal of authority to act as Master of the Seijoh Tower in Aoba Johsai. They are a notable tower with many resources. I sent for the arrangements the day you left. I hope you will forgive my bending of the truth in telling you that your promotion depended on the success of this mission. It was always my intent for you to move on after this, regardless of the outcome, but I thought that I needed to provide you motivation. I say with all due respect, that I have never been so proud to be proven wrong. The position is yours, if you want it.” 

Kuroo just looked at it. It was everything that he had wanted. Seijoh Tower was his first choice, the Master of it would be nearly on par with the Archmage himself. So why did the paper feel so heavy in his hand? 

“But, I'm hoping you will decline it.” His eyes shot up to the Archmage, who gave him a steady look, his hands clasped behind his back and his face a mask of stoic certainty. 

“W-what?”

“I am old, Kuroo-san. I was not much older than you when I became Archmage and I have worked tirelessly for decades to make the world a better place for mages since. I have watched you over the years, along with your peers, and I worried that I would be at this until the end of my days. But, the man who stands before me now is not the man who left here ten days ago. Even then I considered, but now I believe it with all my heart. I would like for you to stay and spend the next five years training to take my place as Archmage. It will be a difficult undertaking, but I think that you are more than capable. The choice is yours.” 

Kuroo blinked at him, the gravity of his offer refusing to sink past the layers of pain and weariness that was barely keeping him standing. How was any of this real? He could never have imagined the Archmage saying such things to him. 

Nekomata's face softened into a smile.

“I will give you a few days to consider. You have much to think on. You know why they call me the Dragon of the Dells, don't you, my boy?” Kuroo's brain caught up to this, used to reacting to being asked to recall historical information.

“You held back the giants who intended to destroy Karasuno. Just you and Lord Ukai, the Griffon, you held the valley for five days until the reinforcements arrived from Aoba Johsai. You rained so much fire upon them that the giants thought a dragon defended it. You gave Lord Ukai wings so that he could fly high above the flames and strike at them, using their own rumor against them. It was the only reason Karasuno remained standing. I've always...I've always admired you greatly for that.” Nekomata was smiling and nodding and there was a twinkle in his eye. 

“Do you know how many giants there were, Kuroo-san?” 

“It was an army...”

“For giants, it was, yes. There were about forty of them. We held off forty giants. And it was a feat of heroism, I won't deny that. But Kuroo, what do you think the history books will call the men who defeated a hoard of thousands of undead? The men who walked into death against a necromancer who wielded a Remnant and kept thousands of ghouls poised for the ravaging of Shiratorizawa? Because they will call you something. A deed such as this is what forges a title that is whispered to children so that they feel safe in the dark hours of the night.” Kuroo's hands fell to his sides. He didn't feel like a hero. He just felt like a man, a man who had made the right choice, albeit a hard one. But maybe that was what it meant to be a hero.

“Th-thank you, Archmage. I will consider it.” Humility was so thick in his voice that Nekomata just shook his head. He walked back around his desk and sat heavily. 

“Good. Now, go get yourself cleaned up, you reek like death. Tomorrow you can get me that full account and I will release the information. I'm reading nothing more this night as we prepare the Remnant for sealing. Including,” he tapped his fingers on a sheet of paper that sat near the front of his cluttered desk, “this report from the receiving circle stating a non-mage entered this tower and has not yet been escorted out. I certainly hope that will be remedied by the time I find out about it.” He waved his hand in dismissal, but he was grinning and Kuroo felt such an iron bond of affection for the man, one that he had never felt before, lock into place. He bowed his head and left. 

It still seemed unreal. All of it. Even that they had survived. And despite all the weight of that meeting, his mind was now wrapped around the knowledge that when he returned to his room, Daichi would be there. His body hummed with anticipation but also...with nerves. 

It had been many years since such a thing had filled him with this level of anxiety. Even as he dried himself, his hands shook at the prospect. He wanted Daichi more than anything at this moment, but it was so much more than that. The longing he felt ran far deeper than he was used to managing. He cared about him. He wanted so much more from him than something fast and rough, like what other lovers had provided. And when it was over...

He pulled the dark robe around him, trying to walk with purpose, but every step made the screaming in his mind all the louder. As he came to stand before the door to his room, his heart was hammering so hard that the sound was like Wakatoshi's fists against the stone wall. He took a shuddering breath and used every ounce of willpower to open the door with as much surety as he could.

Daichi had been laid back on his bed, but as soon as the door opened, he sat up swiftly. He also wore one of the black robes that they used for the showers. The two men locked eyes for a breathless moment, before the paladin was on his feet, rushing to Kuroo and pressing the door shut behind him as his arm slid around his waist. Having him here, so close, without his armor, just the heat of his skin beneath thin fabric, it sparked in Kuroo's blood the way no magic ever had. Daichi pulled his face close, but didn't kiss him yet.

“I didn't know if you would come,” he whispered against his lips and it calmed some of Kuroo's frantic worry.

**“It's my room, you idiot. I'm the one who put you here.”** Kuroo closed the distance, sliding his mouth over Daichi's and savoring the way the warrior's hands clutched at him, pushing him back against the door and pressing his tongue into Kuroo's mouth. He was all hard muscle and feverish heat and as he pressed one of his thighs between Kuroo's legs, he could feel how badly Daichi wanted him. The heady rush of finally being able to feel him made Kuroo dizzy with its intoxication. ****

** **** **

** **** **

Daichi yanked the cord that held the sorcerer's robe together free with a single tug, allowing it to fall open. His hands were rough and calloused as they ran over Kuroo's skin, not frenzied like Kuroo's exploration of him, but slow and deliberate. Like he was memorizing the landscape of his body with those hands and it made Kuroo moan into his mouth. 

“How do you want me, Tetsurou?” Daichi asked him, whispered through hot breath against the skin of his throat and he thought he might just die, right there. 

“Ah, gods, take me. Just make me yours.” 

An unbridled groan escaped the paladin as he lifted Kuroo, the sorcerer's legs wrapping around him, and carried him to the bed. He let him fall to the sheets and then lifted him easily spinning him around so that he was on his stomach. A knot of disappointment tied in Kuroo as Daichi raised his hips. This wasn't exactly how he had hoped it would go, but he wanted him, in any way.

“Wait, I have something to help with...” Daichi's hands moved across his back, a searing kiss and nip sparking just below his shoulder blade. 

“Yes, get that, but don't be so hasty. We won't need it for awhile yet.” Kuroo looked back at him with confusion, but fumbled in his bedside drawer for the vial of lubricant, placing it upon the table. Daichi's kisses were roving down his spine, a playful bite into the meat of his ass making him squeak. 

“I intend to ruin you for all your 'quick and dirty' encounters. They will never satisfy you again.” The jolt of sensation those words sent through Kuroo made him gasp as he felt the wet heat of Daichi's tongue move slowly across his entrance. His cock had already been straining with need, but this made him drip onto the sheets and moan, long and low as another slow lap sent shockwaves of pleasure through him. Daichi's hands moved up his thighs to palm his ass and spread him open, his tongue making lazy circles around Kuroo's opening. 

None of his past lovers had ever done this. Mind you, it wasn't an exercise for the unprepared, but he found that he couldn't believe he had gone his life without knowing such pleasure. As Daichi's devilish tongue pressed into him, past the sensitive ring of muscle, he felt like he was coming undone. He wanted, needed more, needed the paladin inside of him, seated fully. He pressed back against him, moaning his name as the man's fingers dug into his hips with bruising strength.

“Daichi, please.” His tongue moved in and out of him with slow and steady thrusts that made his hands grip tight in the sheets. He wanted it to be faster, but was also sure that if Daichi picked up the pace, he might cum before his aching shaft was even touched. 

Daichi pulled back and grabbed his hips, tossing him onto his back. Kuroo let out heavy pants of breath, but felt the air knocked from him as he looked up at the warrior, sliding the dark robe from his shoulders. The silver moonlight glowed upon his skin, painting him in stark relief, his eyes dark and filled with lust, face flushed with want. He was fully erect, his ample length gleaming from the spill of precum. He leaned over Kuroo, his mouth and teeth desperate at his his throat and trailing down across his chest. He made sure to swirl his tongue across each pink nipple, making Kuroo's hips jump. His hand moved down across his navel, sliding inches from his aching cock to grasp his hip.

“Ah, please, please touch me,” Kuroo begged him and he saw the mischievous grin spread across Daichi's face. It was the most dangerous look he'd seen on the paladin so far and it made heat coil tightly in his abdomen. He leaned all the way up again, breathing against Kuroo's ear and sucking the lobe between his teeth. With him so close, Kuroo's hands sought him, dragging down his chest and letting his thumb graze along the outside edge of the warrior's length. Daichi pulled back quickly, taking Kuroo's wrist in hand and shaking his head in reprimand. 

“I promised to make it up to you. Let me.” The vial was in his hand now and he pulled the cork out with his teeth, spilling the viscous liquid over his fingers before popping it back in and setting it to the side. He lifted one of Kuroo's legs over his shoulder, yanking him close, as he warmed the stuff between his fingers. 

As he slid them over Kuroo's entrance, Daichi watched him, seeming entranced by his shuddering breaths and gasps. Kuroo couldn't help but roll his hips back, seeking the delving fingers which pressed softly against him. One digit dipped into him and his body tightened for just a moment from the intrusion. He saw Daichi's breath catch, his dark pupils blown wide. He massaged gently against the inner walls, leaning forward to take Kuroo's lips again, his tongue trailing along the edge of his mouth. 

“Relax for me. I've got you. I've always got you,” Daichi whispered to him and he breathed deep, letting Daichi sink further within him. He felt so good, there was no pain and only mild discomfort as he slipped the second finger into place. With his free hand, Daichi brushed his fingers over Kuroo's wanting member, making his head fall back to the pillows as waves of pleasure washed over him. When he looked back to the paladin, his head was bent between Kuroo's legs and he felt him take him into his mouth, the heat and sensation nearly too much after being untended for so long. He gripped at the headboard above him, crying out as the man took him in completely. The sensation of his lips and tongue combined with the fingers working into him, giving him just a bit of that burning stretch, it was so good he was drowning in it. The coil in his gut was tightening quickly and as the fingers inside of him curled and brushed against his pleasure point, he nearly shouted as he tumbled over the precipice. He released deep into Daichi's mouth, and the paladin swallowed, his throat tightening around him, making him cry out further as his body was wracked in rending bliss.

As Daichi pulled back, he also sank a third finger into Kuroo, continuing his ministrations, though at a much slower pace. Kuroo's hands and feet tingled as he panted desperately, some shame slipping into his mind. Wasn't he the experienced one? How was Daichi so good at this?

“Fuck, you shouldn't have made me cum so soon.”

“It was best to get the first one out of the way.” Kuroo's mouth dropped open as his eyes widened at the smirking warrior.

“Th-the first one?”

“How many days did I make you wait? Nine? Ten? I think I owe you at least that many, don't you agree?” He moved his fingers against Kuroo's prostate again, making his hips buck, the overstimulation almost painful so soon after his climax.

“You're insane. I-I can't do that many in one night. You'll kill me after all.” 

“If you insist. But that means you'll owe me more nights like this.” Kuroo began to harden again at the prospect, more nights with this man...there was nothing he wanted more. He wanted him every night, was afraid he wouldn't be able to breath without the press of his lips. 

“Anything. Anything you want.” He felt the fingers pull out of him and he whined from the emptiness, but Daichi had retrieved the vial and was coating himself with the honey-colored liquid. Anticipation spiked within Kuroo. Gods, he just wanted to feel him so badly, to know his skin against his, to feel him take pleasure from Kuroo's body. He pulled Kuroo's thighs up toward him, those walnut eyes passing once more over his frame. Daichi dragged a hand slowly from his throat all the way to his reviving erection and the sorcerer arched into his touch. 

“Gods, you are so beautiful,” he whispered, almost more to himself than to Kuroo, the reverence in his eyes making Kuroo's heart thunder in his chest. Then, slowly, and with such deliberate care, Daichi shifted his hips to press himself against Kuroo's opening, breaching his threshold one agonizing inch at a time. He was large enough that it seemed to push the air from the sorcerer's lungs, but he felt like silken heaven, the sweet burn like the fire of awakening magic. 

Daichi's face clenched in pleasure as he stilled, giving Kuroo a moment to adjust. He met Kuroo's eyes, waiting for him to give the signal that he was ready. The cunning sorcerer held his gaze, gripped the headboard, and rolled his hips into Daichi, wrapping his legs around his waist. The paladin let out an audible moan, crumpling atop of him and thrusting along with his motion. It was so good, but the angle was not what Kuroo needed. 

As if he read his mind, Daichi sat up, grabbing his hips and slamming into him, hitting right against his sweet spot. 

“Ah! Yes! Daichi!” In response to his cry, the warrior began pounding into him in earnest, each thrust smooth from the roll of his hips. At Kuroo's command his speed increased, sending waves of violent pleasure cascading through him, each new thrust tearing cries of ecstasy from his lips. He reached down to stroke himself, feeling another powerful build in his belly. The moment his hands wrapped around his shaft Daichi seemed to lose himself entirely, pressing one of Kuroo's legs up to give him more leverage as he sank into him again and again. 

“Yes, cum for me again, Tetsurou. I need to feel you come apart all around me.” His words were like velvet fingers across Kuroo's skin and his body spasmed, arching up off the bed as another violent orgasm tore through him, coating his chest in white ribbons. Daichi's hands flew to his hair and gripped him tightly, as one more thrust sent him over the edge as well. The aching splendor of his face twisted in ecstasy burned into Kuroo's mind and he was sure no sight would ever bring him closer to divinity than that. 

Daichi collapsed atop him, bringing their mouths together for a deep, slow kiss. His hands traced along Kuroo's sides and shoulders, so light that it was almost maddening after such intensity. He wrapped his arms around the paladin's neck, holding him close and basking in the press of their flesh against each other. He breathed in the incredible man, wishing this moment could never end. 

As slowly as he could, Daichi pulled out of him and he hissed a bit from the sudden lack. Daichi lifted his chin until he met his eyes.

**“I didn't hurt you, did I?”** The seriousness of his tone washed warm across Kuroo's heart.****

** **** **

** **** **

“No. Not at all. I don't think I've ever had it not hurt at least a little. I'm truly amazed by you.” Daichi took one of the discarded robes and tenderly cleaned the mess from Kuroo's chest and stomach, as well as from his own where it had transferred. When he met Kuroo's eyes, there was sorrow behind them. Kuroo ran a hand across his cheek.

“What is it?”

“You'll be leaving soon, won't you? Nekomata promised you a position of authority, far from here.” Daichi's eyes fell to the empty space between them and Kuroo glanced toward the envelope that had fallen to the floor when he came in. 

“If I was?” He was doing it again, opening his heart to this man and leaving himself vulnerable to damage. It was foolish, but he had to know.

“I-I would miss you, Tetsurou. I would miss every moment of the short time we have spent together. And I would miss all the resplendent moments we could spend together from this point forward. I want to know you, your dreams, your truths, your history. I have seen you at your worst and at your best, and now I want to feast my eyes upon every part of you in between. You have captured me.” Kuroo drew him against his body and kissed him, sweetly, again and again, like the gentle wings of butterflies against his face. When he reached his ear he whispered.

“Good thing I have decided to stay then.” Daichi drew back, looking at him with worry and he laughed, joy breaking over him as the knowledge that he would have the rest of forever with this man if they wanted it. “Nekomata asked me to stay and train to take his place as Archmage. I'd be a fool to decline, don't you think?” 

Daichi huffed out a breath in relief, nuzzling against his cheek.

“An utter fool.”

“And I think that it would be wise for the Archmage in training to have a permanent guardian. After all, they'll be writing stories about us anyway. We might as well get used to each other.”

Daichi stared down at him, lost as his eyes followed the trails his fingers were tracing over Kuroo's skin. The moon shone full and bright through the window, it's pale light cleansing after all the darkness they had faced together. A soft smile spread across the paladin's serene countenance.

“I think I finally know.” 

“Hmm?” Kuroo hummed in question.

“Why the Lady wove the moonlight.” He met Kuroo's eyes and brushed his fingertips up the sorcerer's neck and jaw, bringing their lips close but still far enough to study his face. “It was to lay upon your skin and banish the shadows from my heart.” 

And as those words fell from the lips of his lover, Kuroo felt the last vestiges of darkness and loneliness melt from his heart as well. He accepted the love which had grown there, in only a few day's time, and there, in the silver light of the Lady's moon, two souls knew peace upon the Earth.

And a third soul found it among the stars. 

[Comfort Me - Phildel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DqIall-WHNU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _History would write them as the Dawnbringers. High Paladin Daichi Sawamura, the Phoenix, and Archmage Tetsurou Kuroo, the Phantom. Heroes of the Third Age.___
> 
> _  
_Thank you ever so much for reading my disgustingly romantic, incredibly violent, Dungeons & Dragons AU fanfic! I'm so grateful you let me share it with you._  
_  
_  
_I'd love to hear if you think it's a good setting for more stories. Goodness knows there are a lot of great pairings out there to explore in this world. I hope you have enjoyed this! Sending you all my love.__  



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